


Red Vs. Blue: The Blood Gulch Chronicles Part 1

by IeshaFox



Series: Red Vs. Blue [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Humor, Novelization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 19,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IeshaFox/pseuds/IeshaFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of nowhere, in a boxed canyon, two groups, the Reds, and the Blues, are at odds against each other. This battle has the group's more astounded than they would admit, but each of the soldiers have a large secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why Are We Here?

In the future, where the humans  
had made their way into the depths of  
space, spreading colonies across  
the stars, on a distant planet that  
was at the center of the largest war in  
history, and in a canyon blocked,  
from walking anyway, two bases  
were set up. It was set to look like  
one of the Old World terms, racist,  
reds versus blues.  
The canyon was shaped like a box,  
plains from the center, to either side of  
either base, and leading to cliff  
walls.  
At the base colored red,  
Dexter Grif sighed as both he  
and his teammate, Dick Simmons,  
watched the blue base, the sun  
beating down on them both.  
"Hey," Simmons said, breaking  
the silence.  
"Yeah?"  
"Do you ever wonder why we're  
here?" Simmons asked.  
"Well," Grif started. "That's  
one of life's great mysteries,  
isn't it? Why are we here?"  
Simmons looked at him, as  
if to ask, "What's your point?"  
"I mean, are we the product  
of some cosmic coincidence, or is  
there really a God, watching over  
everything, with a plan, for us, and  
stuff?"  
Grif paused, looking wistfully  
off into the distance.  
He raised an orange  
gauntleted hand to shade his eyes from  
the sun.  
"I don't know man, but it  
keeps me up at night."  
They stood side by side  
silently for a moment, then Simmons  
cried in both confusion, and disbelief,  
"What?! I meant why are we  
here, in this canyon?" Simmons  
raised his own arm, and swept it  
across, indicating the boxed area.  
"Oh, I, yeah."  
"What was that all that stuff about  
God?"  
"Uh, hmm? Nothing."  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
"No," Grif attempted  
to brush the topic away.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah."  
"Seriously, though. Why are  
we out here? As far as I can tell,  
it's just a boxed canyon in the  
middle of nowhere. No way in, nor  
out."  
"Yeah." Grif nodded, tuning  
Simmons out.  
"The only reason we set up  
a red base here, was because they have a  
blue base over there." Simmons  
pointed to the base. "And the only  
reason that they have a blue base over  
there is because we have a red base,  
right here." Grif blinked, looking  
at the base across the canyon.  
He could have sworn that he had locked  
eyes with one of the blue soldiers.  
"Yeah, that's because we're fighting  
each other." Grif replied, not  
paying attention.  
"No, no. I mean, if we  
were to pull out today, leave this base  
behind, and they were to come and take our  
base, then they'd have two bases  
in the middle of a boxed canyon.  
Whoop-dee-fucking-doo."  
"Yeah, what's up with that anyway?  
I mean, I signed onto this  
military to fight some aliens.  
But, the next thing I know,  
Master Chief blows up the whole  
Covenant Armada, and I'm  
stuck here, in the middle of nowhere,  
fighting a bunch of blue guys!"  
Simmons nodded, agreeing with  
his teammate.  
On the other side of the canyon,  
standing on the roof, almost in the exact  
same position as Simmons,  
Leonard Church held his sniper  
rifle's scope to his eye.  
He watched the two opponents,  
and wondered, not for the first time, why  
he didn't just shoot the two.  
Lavernius Tucker, a blue  
soldier clad in aquamarine armor,  
looked at Church, resenting the  
fact that he didn't have a sniper  
rifle.  
"What are they doing?"  
"What?" Church whirled on  
Tucker, keeping the sniper aimed  
perfectly.  
"I said, what are they doing  
now?"  
"Goddammit, I'm getting  
so sick of answering that question,"  
"Hey, you have the fucking rifle,  
I can't see shit, so don't bitch  
at me, because I'm not just going to sit  
up here and play with my di,"  
"Okay, okay," Church raised  
his free hand, stopping Tucker right  
there. "Look. They're just standing there,  
and talking, okay? That's all they're  
doing. That's all they EVER do, is  
just stand there, and talk. That's what  
they were doing last week. That's what  
they were doing when you asked me five  
minutes ago. So, five minutes  
from now, when you ask me: "What  
are they doing?" My answer's going  
to be: "They're still just talking, and  
they're still just standing there!" Okay?"  
They locked gazes for a moment,  
and finally, Tucker looked away.  
Church sighed, and turned back  
to his scanning of the canyon.  
"What are they talking about?"  
"I fucking hate you."  
"Talk about a waste of  
resources!" Grif spoke,  
keeping his gaze away from his  
current position. "I mean, we  
should be out there, finding new, and  
intelligent forms of life. You  
know, fight them."  
"Yeah, no shit," Simmons  
remarked, keeping one simple thought  
to himself. "That's why they should put us in  
charge."  
"Ladies!" the sound of a gruff  
Southern drawl cried up to the roof  
of the base. "Front and center, on the  
double!"  
"Fuck!" Simmons murmured,  
starting for the ramp leading to the ground.  
"Yes sir," Grif followed,  
calling out.


	2. Red Gets A Delivery

"Hurry up, ladies!" Sarge  
taunted, urging the two soldiers  
onward. "This ain't no ice cream  
social!"  
"Ice cream social?"  
Simmons asked, looking to Grif.  
"Stop the pillow talk, you  
two." sarge ordered. "Does  
anyone want to guess, why I  
gathered ya here, today?"  
"Uh," Grif began, "Is  
it because the war's over, and you're sending  
us home?"  
Sarge's mouth quirked in a  
mocking way. He loved to do anything  
to annoy, or insult Grif.  
"That's exactly it, Private," his  
voice dripped with sarcasm. "The  
war's over. We won! Turns out  
you're the big hero," he pointed  
to Grif. "We're goin' hold  
a parade in your honor. I  
get to drive the float. And,  
Simmons here, is IN CHARGE  
OF CONFETTI!"  
"I'm no stranger to sarcasm,  
Sir." Grif remarked. And in  
truth, he used sarcasm all the  
time.  
"Goddammit, Private!  
Shut your mouth, or else I'll have  
Simmons slit your throat while  
you're asleep," Sarge glared at  
Grif, threatening him.  
"Oh! I'd do it too!"  
"I know you would Simmons.  
Good man."  
"A couple things today, ladies.  
Command has seen fit to increase our  
ranks here at Blood Gulch  
Outpost #1." Sarge reported  
proudly.  
"Crap! We're getting a  
rookie," Grif sighed, looking  
down.  
"That's right dead man! Our  
new recruit will be here within the  
week! But, today, we received the first  
part of our shipment from Command."  
Lopez, a robot, which Sarge  
had made all on his own, by ordering  
the pieces for the robot, stood a little  
apart from the other saoldiers.  
Sarge turned to him. "Lopez,"  
he ordered. "Bring up the  
vehicle."  
Lopez started off, going atop  
a hill where he drove a large  
jeep, colored green, down to the  
trio. It stopped, the car's motor  
seeming to pur.  
"Shotgun!"  
"Shotgun!" Grif looked  
at Simsons, as he shouted it just  
a second too late. "Fuck!"  
he swore.  
"May I introduce, our  
new light reconnaisance  
vehicle. It has four inch  
armor plating," Sarge laid a  
hand on the car's side, then moved  
it to the bumper. "Mag bumper  
suspensions. A mounted  
machine-gunner, and," he paused  
a moment. "Total seating for  
three. Gentlemen, this is the  
M12-LETTERV!"   
Sarge opened his arms wide  
indicating the car as Lopez exited.  
Sarge then turned to the other two, and  
continued, "I like to call it the  
Warthog."  
"Why Warthog, sir?"  
Simmons asked.  
"Because M12-LETTERV is too  
hard to say in converation, son."  
Sarge sighed, as if the answer had  
been obvious.  
"No, but why Warthog? I  
mean, it doesn't really look like a  
pig." Grif chimed in, looking  
at it confused.  
Sarge turned his hard gaze  
to Grif, staring at him blankly.  
"Say that again."  
"I think it looks more like a  
puma."  
"What in Sam Hell is a  
puma?"  
"Uh, do you mean, like the shoe  
company?" Simmons asked, just about  
as confused as Sarge.  
"No, like a puma. It's a  
big cat, like a lion."  
Sarge continued to look at  
Grif, almost as if he were some  
strange alien, or just stupid.  
"You're making that up." he stated  
simply.  
"I'm telling you! It's a real  
animal!" Grif protested.  
"Simmons," Sarge remarked,  
turning to Simmons. "I want  
you to poison Grif's next  
meal."  
"Yes sir." Simmons  
saluted, and Grif glared at him.  
"Look," Sarge bent down.  
"See these two toe hooks? They  
look like tusk. And what kind of  
animal, has tusks?"  
A moment passed, Grif  
said, "A walrus."  
"Didn't I just tell you to stop  
making up animals?!"  
Grif sighed, looking down at  
his feet, wishing he were somewhere,  
anywhere, but where he currently was.  
vWhat is that thing?" Tucker  
asked, peering over Church's  
shoulder, and through the scope.  
"I don't know, man, was Church  
admitted, taking a look at it.  
"It looks like they've got a car  
down there. We better get back  
to base and report it."  
his a car!" Tucker backed up,  
having seen his share. "How come they  
get a car?"  
"What are you complaining about, man?  
We're about to get a tank in the  
very next drop!"  
Tucker looked down. He  
knew he and Church had different  
ways of thinking, so he had to give  
Church a little slack for the thinking  
part.  
"You can't pick up chicks in a  
tank." he muttered.  
"Oh, you know what? You could  
bitch about anything, couldn't you?  
We're going to get a tak, and you're  
worried about chicks. What chicks  
are we gonna pick up, man,  
firstly. And, secondly, how would we  
pick up chicks in a car that looks  
like that,." Church indicated the  
scope, which was still fixed on the  
vehicle below.  
"What kind of car is it?"  
Tucker smiled a little.  
"I don't know, I've never  
seen a car like that before. It looks like  
a, a big cat of some kind."  
The two stared off into the distance  
for a moment, and Tucker replied,  
"What, like a puma?"  
"Yeah, man, there you go."  
"So, unless anybody has any  
more mythical creatures, to suggest as  
a name for the new vehicle, we're  
going to stick with, the Warthog.  
How about it Grif?" Sarge turned  
to look expectantly at Grif,  
whom in turn was staring at the ground  
in resignation.  
"No sir." Grif  
reluctantly stated, "No more  
suggestions."  
"Are you sure? How about  
Bigfoot," Sarge taunted.  
"It's okay."  
"Unicorn."  
"No really, I'm cool."  
"Sasquatch."  
"Leprachaun?" Simmons  
piped up, and again, Grif glared at  
him.  
"Hey, he doesn't need  
any help, man." Grif  
retorted, returning his gaze to the  
ground.  
"Phoenix," Sarge continued.

"Oh, Christ." Grif began  
to walk into the red base.  
"Hey, Simmons, what's the name  
of that Mexican lizard, eats all  
the goats?" Sarge asked,  
triumph in his gaze.  
"Uh, that would be the chupacabra,  
sir!" Simmons remarked.  
"Hey Grif, chupathingy!  
How about that? I like it! It's got  
a ring to it!"  
Sarge's mocking laughter  
followed Grif as he entered the  
base, and sat down on one of the  
only chairs they had.


	3. The Rookies

The days passed slowly, and not  
two days after the delivgy of the  
Warthog, and the argument over its name,  
found both Grif, and Simmons,  
on the roof of the base, doing the same  
as before. Spying on the blue base,  
and arguing.  
"Hey," Simmons protested,  
interrupting Grif from whatever he had  
been talking about. "That's not  
exactly what happened."  
"Yes it is!" Grif argued,  
glaring at his teammate. "You  
said, "I'm not going to the Vegas  
Quadrant," and then the next thing  
I know, you're in an escape pod,  
headed for,"  
"Excuse me, uh, sirs?"  
Another voice, this one  
unfamiliar, interrupted Grif's  
speech again. This voice seemed a  
little shy, showing inferiority to the two  
red soldiers.  
"Sirs?" Grif asked, looking  
over his shoulder, and spotting another  
soldier standing at the top of the ramp.  
This soldier wore armor of what  
was called, standard issue colors, his  
armor colored red.  
Grif exchanged a look with  
Simmons, then sighed.  
"Oh crap."  
"I was told to report  
to Blood Gulch Outpost #1  
and speak to who ever is in charge."  
"Sorry man, Sarge is at  
command, getting new orders. Ain't  
nobody in charge today."  
"Actually, Private, he  
left me in charge while he's  
gone."  
"You are such a kiss-ass."  
Grif sigh, glaring at  
Simmons.  
"Also, he told me that, if I  
had any trouble from you I should,"  
Simmons cleared his throat and  
attempted his best southern accent,  
which wasn't that good. "Get in the  
Jarthog, and crush your head like a  
tomato can."  
Grif continued to glare at  
Simmons, while the rookie  
stood, looking on in confusion.  
"That's the worst impression  
I have ever heard." Grif finally  
retorted.  
"Okay, Rookie, what's  
your story?"  
"Private Donut, reporting  
for dut, sir," the recruit  
saluted Simmons, then, almost as  
if it were an afterthought, he saluted  
Grif. "I'm ready to fight some  
aliens."  
Well, he's certainly not  
lacking confidence, Grif thought. But,  
he was in the wrong place for fighting  
aliens.  
"A couple things here, Rookie,  
first off, Private Donut? I  
think somebody needs a new  
nickname." Grif gave Donut  
a searching glance. "Secondly,  
what's with the armor color?"  
"This is the standard issue redddble  
Donut remarked immediately.  
"Yeah, I know. Listen, only  
two kinds of people wear standard issue  
armor: officers, and recruits.  
And since you're not threatening to gut  
me like a fish, you're probably  
not an officer."  
"Well," Donut protested,  
"He's wearing red armor."  
"No, my armor's maroon.  
Your armor's red."  
"Well, how do I get a  
different color."  
"I'll bet the blues don't  
have to put up with kind of crap,"  
Simmons sighed, looking off  
toward the enemy base, and the cliff  
walls behind it.  
Meanwhile, Tucker and Church  
were examining their latest gain, a  
Scorpion-class tank, which,  
unlike the reds, they had not yet  
named. The other half of what they'd  
gotten just yesterday, was a recruit  
known as Caboose.  
They were so awe-struck by the tank  
they were completely oblivious to the  
words that the rookie was saying.  
"So, I said to the guy, "How  
are you going to get the tak down  
to the planet," and he goes,  
"I'll just put it on the ship."  
And I go, "If you've got a ship  
that can carry a tank, why not put  
guns on the ship, and use it  
instead!" And,"   
Caboose rambled on about his  
arrival. Finally, Tucker had  
to speak. He blurted out, "Hey  
kid."  
"Yeah?" Caboose seemed to be  
the eager-to-serve,  
loyal-til-the-end, kind of soldier.  
"You're ruining the moment, shut  
up!"  
"Oh, okay! You've got it  
man!"  
Church, however, had heard none  
of the talk. He slid his hand over  
one of the tanks treads, and smiled  
at the vehicle. "You know what?"  
he murmured with pure pleasure  
at seeing a war machine such as this.  
"I could blow up the whole  
goddamn world with this thing!"  
Back at red base,  
Simmons, Grif, and Donut  
stood atop red base's roof,  
and Simmons was talking to the  
recruit.  
"Okay, Private Donut,"  
he spoke warming up to the title.  
"Here's the deal,"  
"I just refuse to call him,  
Private Donut!" Grif  
muttered, looking from Donut  
to Simmons.  
"We've got a very important  
mission for you. Do you think you can  
handle it?"  
"Absolutely." Donut  
saluted.  
"We're going to need you to go  
to the store, and get two quarts of  
elbow grease."  
"Yeah," Grif looked at  
Simmons, then caught on. "And  
pick up some headlight fluid  
for the Puma too."  
"The what?" Donut asked.  
"He means the Warthog."  
Simmons quickly put in,  
smiling.  
"You do know where the store is,  
right rookie?"  
"What? Yeah, uh, yeah!"  
Donut stammered. "Of course I  
do! Sure, no problem!"  
"Well, going then."  
Donut started down the ramp, but  
stopped when Grif spoke, almost  
as if helping him, "Other way."  
"Right," Donut muttered,  
then raised his voice, turning  
around, and leaping off of the base's  
roof, and into the canyon. "I  
knew that, just got turned around,  
that's all."  
Donut loped off into the distance,  
his quick, athletic figure soon  
receeding into the grey of the canyon.  
"How long do you think it'll be  
before he finds out that there's no  
store?" Simmons asked as  
he and Grif watched the new  
recruit leave.  
"I say, at least a week."  
Donut sighed, and murmured  
to himself, "Elbow grease? How  
stupid do they think I am?! Once  
I get back to base, I am  
going to talk to the Sergeant."  
"you know what?" Tucker finally  
remarked, looking at the tank, and  
admiring its girth. "Forget what  
I said before. We can definitely  
pick up chicks in this thing!  
Probably two or three chicks  
a piece!"  
"Oh man, listen to you!" Church  
murmured, smiling a little. "What  
are you gonna do with two chicks?"  
"Church, we're like Voltron,"  
Tucker stated, leaning against the  
side of the tank. "The more you can  
hook up, the better gets!"  
Back at red base, Simmons  
were taking turns looking through the  
scope of their team's sniper  
rifle, watching Donut.  
"Do you think that we were too oean  
to the kid?"  
"Nah," Grif assured him,  
"He'll just wander around on the cliffs  
for a few hours. What's the worst  
thing that could happen?"  
Donut stopped, panting, as he  
reached what he assumed was the store,  
seeing as it was the only other building  
in the canyon.  
"Finally," he gasped, "There  
it is." Something caught his eye,  
something nobody could have missed.  
"Oh sweet! They sell tanks!"


	4. Head Noob In Charge

Church and Tucked still stood by the  
tank, talking about relationships.  
"Yeah, I'll let you in on  
a little secret." Church began,  
looking away from Tucker. He  
felt it was easier to talk about these  
things when not looking at who he was  
talking to. "I've, uh, I've  
actually got a girl back  
home."  
"Oh, yeah? Girlfriend, or  
wife?" Tucker asked, smiling.  
"No, man. She's just my  
girlfriend." Church sighed. "You know,  
we were going to get married, but, I  
got shipped out, you know how it works."  
"Oh, well, are you going to marry  
her when you get back?" Tucker  
asked curiously.  
"I'm not gonna get married,"  
Caboose spoke up. "My dad  
always said, why buy the cow, when you can  
get the milk for free?"  
"Hey rookie," Church spoke,  
his voice hinting anger beginning  
to boil. His body stood stiffly  
upright, but he did not turn from his  
position to glare at Caboose.  
"Did you just call my girlfriend a  
cow?"  
"No, I think he called her  
a slut." Timeucker observed.  
In other situations, Tucker would have  
smiled at the two beginning to go at  
it, but Church was the closest thing to a  
friend that Tucker had.  
"I'll tell you what, noob."  
Church decided, turning around. "I  
could sit out here, and listen to you insult  
my girlfriend all day long, but as  
it turns out, I've got a more  
important job for you to do."  
Church looked to Tucker, whom  
seemed to catch on immediately.  
"Great," Caboose mumbled, not  
noticing the look his two superiors  
shared.  
"See, we've got this  
General,"  
"Right, the General guy," Tucker  
put in, attempting to help.  
"Who likes to come by, and make  
random inspections of bases. So,  
what I'm going to have you do, is,  
I'm going to have you, go in the base,"  
Church pointed to the blue building.  
"And stand right next to the flag, at  
attention, just in case he decides  
to come by."  
"When is he coming by?"  
Caboose aasked, flitting his  
gaze from Church, to the base, and  
back again.  
"We never know. It could be today,  
it could be a week from now." tucker  
admitted.  
"You want me to stand at attention  
for a week?"  
"You know, you don't sound very  
grateful. This is the most  
important job at the whole  
base!" Church exclaimed. "You  
are going to be right there with the flag!"  
"What's so important about the  
flag?"  
Both Church and Tucker blinked  
at this comment. What did he mean  
by that? The flag was why they were fighting?  
It was the standard for their bases! But,  
Church didn't know how to put that  
thought into words that Caboose could  
understand.  
"Oh, come on!" he remarked,  
"Didn't they teach you guys  
anything in training?"  
"They didn't tell us anything  
about a flag. So, why's it so  
important?"  
"Because it's the flag, man,"  
Church stuttered. "You know, it's,  
it's the flag! It's," Church  
looked to Tucker for help.  
"Tucker you tell him why the  
flag is so important."  
"Well, it's, it's  
complicated. It's blue, we're  
blue."  
"It's just important, okay?"  
Church finally said, cutting Tucker  
off, before he could make a fool of  
himself. "Trust us. So, when the  
General comes by, first thing he's  
gonna want to do is inspect the  
flag."  
"Right."  
Church looked to Caboose.  
To paraphrase, he said, "So  
just, go in there. You know, far away  
from us, and wait for him."  
Caboose nodded, saluted, and  
started walking away. But, it  
wasn't long before he had another  
question. So, he turned around, and  
looked at Church. "How will I  
know when I see him?" he called.  
"There's only three of us out here,  
rookie." Tucker explained,  
"He's going to be the guy that  
doesn't look like us."  
"Now get in there, and don't  
come out!" Church yelled bluntly.  
Caboose nodded again, and started  
off once more toward the entrance to the  
blue base.  
"Man," Church huffed  
turning away, "That guy is dumber  
than you are!"  
"You mean, he's dumber than you  
are." Tucker countered.  
"Wow, Tucker," Church  
remarked, sarcasm dripping from his  
tone. "That was a great comeback."  
"Uh, Mister Church, sir?"  
"Oh, my god, WHAT?!"  
Church exploded.  
Caboose was standing in the doorway,  
looking out of the base, andtoward the  
two soldiers.  
"Tucker, I swear I'm going  
to kill him!" Church exclaimed,  
looking from the tank, which Tucker was  
leaning against, to the base.  
"Sorry about, calling your girl  
a slut." Caboose called  
nervously. But, despite that, it  
was nothing to help Church's mood.  
"ROOKIE! SHUT UP!  
JUST, SHUT UP! YOU'RE  
DRIVING ME CRAZY! GET  
IN THERE!" Church yelled, his  
face turning purple.  
Tucker chuckled, but Church  
wasn't stupid enough to miss it.  
His eyebrows raised, and he  
looked at Tucker. "Tucker,  
are you laughing at me?"  
All three blue soldiers  
failed to notice the soldier in  
standard issue red armor walking  
up behind them, until he spoke,  
"Excuse me, sirs? May I  
ask you a question?"  
"Dear God in Heaven,  
rookie," Church spoke with barely  
concealed anger. "If I turn  
around, and you are not inside. I  
can't be held responsible for what  
I'm gonna do to you!"  
"What did I do?"  
"One," Church began to count.  
"Oh, give me a break!"  
Donut sighed.  
"Two,"  
"Fine!"  
Donut stomped toward the  
building which he had assumed was the  
store in the canyon of Blood  
Gulch. Upon entering, he saw that  
it had barely anything intriguing,  
barely any stocks. But, at the  
end of one of the rooms a soldier  
stood at attention next to a  
flagpole, the blue team's flag  
at its top.  
"Wow! You got here fast!"  
Caboose aexclaimed upon seeing  
Donut's arrival.  
"Why is everybody so freaking  
rude in this canyon?" Donut  
grumbled, stepping forward slowly.  
"I'm not sir. What can I do  
for you?" Caboose saluted  
Donut.  
"Finally, someone with a little respect  
around here."  
"Yes sir!" Caboose  
exclaimed enthusiastically. "I  
assume you're here for this." he  
proffered Donut the flag, the  
latter eying it with confusion.  
"Wait, is this all you have?"  
"Uh, yes sir. That's it."  
"Ah, man! This figures!  
Shit. What about elbow grease?"  
"Uh," Caboose tapped his  
head in thought. "No."  
"Headlight fluid?"  
"Nope. All we have is this  
flag."  
"Well, I guess I can't  
go back empty-handed," Donut  
decided. "I guess I'll take  
that."  
"Sure," Caboose let  
Donut take the flag, "That  
makes sense, I guess."  
As Donut walked away,  
he mumbled "Man, they're gonna  
give me so much shit for coming back  
with just this stupid flag."  
Church straightened himself.  
"Well, that's enough gabbing out of us.  
Let's take this bad boy out for a  
spin. Go ahead and hop in,  
Tucker." Church indicated what  
was obviously the driver's seat.  
"Me? I can't drive that thing!"  
"So, you're telling me, you're  
not Armor Certified?"  
"No!" Tucker laughed at that.  
He'd barely been certified  
to carry a gun! "I don't even  
know how to use the fucking sniper  
rifle!"  
Church sighed. There was a reason  
he was in charge, and not Tucker, nor  
that rookie, Caboose.  
"Don't you know how to drive it?"  
"No!" Church exclaimed, then  
realized something. "Holy crap!  
Who is running this army?!"  
"Hey," interrupted a voice,  
one familiar, and annoying voice.  
"I just wanted to let you know, the  
General stopped by, and picked up  
the flag." Caboose called.  
"Yeah, okay," Church called  
back. "Whatever moron! Why would  
they give us a fucking tank, if  
nobody knows how to drive the damn  
thing?!"  
Blinking, Church looked at  
the tank, Tucker, Caboose, then  
he turned to the canyon as a whole.  
Then he turned back to the base,  
where Caboose was emerging, and coming  
straight for himself and Tucker.  
"Wait just a second," Church  
looked at Tucker. "What did  
he just say?"


	5. The Package Is In The Open

The canyon was quiet but for the  
murmurings of either group. Both  
teams of soldiers stood on the roof  
of their respective bases, and  
Caboose had finally gotten over  
to where Tucker and Church were standing.  
Quickly he explained what had  
happened, an unintelligible version  
of the true story, but the story  
nonetheless. Finally, after the  
explanations, and moments of silence,  
Church spoke up.  
"So, let me get this straight."  
Church spoke slowly as he  
turned to face Caboose once  
again. "You gave this guy our  
flag?"  
"Is that bad?" Caboose  
asked.  
"Oh, no. That's not bad.  
The next time he comes over, why  
don't you just help him blow up the  
whole goddamn base!" Church  
exclaimed sarcastically.  
While the two were speaking,  
Tucker had been looking through the  
scope of the sniper rifle, scanning  
the canyon's entirety.  
He passed the rifle to Church,  
careful not to pull the trigger. The  
scope was focused on a distant  
figure.  
"There, there he is!" Tucker  
exclaimed.  
"Where?" Church looked at the  
rifle's scope. "Oh, yeah!  
Oh, I've got him."  
Church began to zoom in on the  
guy, lowering one of his fingers to the  
trigger of the sniper.  
"He's sneaking around back,  
behind some of the cliffs." Church  
observed, letting his muscles  
relax.  
"He must be one smart son of a  
bitch." Tucker remarked, looking  
from Church to the canyon. There was  
one question that he had in his mind,  
could Church make the shot?  
Out in the center of the canyon,  
Donut sighed as he walked in  
another circular motion. Finally,  
he admitted to the entire canyon,  
at least, the part that was around him,  
and within earshot, "Man, I am so  
freaking lost! Where the hell is the  
base?"  
On the roof of the blue base  
Church zoomed in completely on  
Donut's movement, carefully  
moving the sniper's barrel to focus  
on him as he moved.  
"Oh, shit! Hey, tucker,  
look at his armor. It's red."  
Church indicated the scope, which  
Tucker looked through, then withdrew.  
"Ah man! I bet that it's their  
Sergeant!"  
"Well, that makes sense. At  
least now we know how he got by our  
defenses." Church reasoned.  
"You know, he came in the back  
door, where you two were standing."  
Caboose pointed out.  
"Yeah, well let's take him  
out then."  
"Roger that." Church aimed once  
more at Donut's back, preparing  
to shoot. "Okay, say good night  
Sarge."  
Church shot four times, and  
Donut weaved out of the way, the  
bullets falling harmlessly to the  
ground.  
"Son of a bitch!" Donut  
shouted as they hit the ground beside him.  
"Ah crap!" Church looked  
up, then noticed Tucker's blank  
stare. "What?"  
"You're really not very good with that thing,  
are you?"  
"Hey! It's me!" Donut  
cried from his spot in the center of the  
canyon. He waved the flag in  
the air, but the blue team never heard  
a word. "Don't shoot! I'm the  
guy that bought the flag, remember?"  
"Oh great! Now he's taunting  
us! That's just embarrassing."  
"All right!" Church threw down  
the sniper. "I've had it!  
Rookie, you stay here, me and  
Tucker will head to the teleporter,  
and we'll cut him off at the   
pass."  
"Right." Caboose remarked.  
"Tucker, you ready?" Church  
asked, starting for a doorway in the  
side of the roof. The teleporter was  
a structure they'd figured out  
how to wire up from their base, to the  
center of the canyon. The hole in  
the center of the doorway was filled with  
wicked greenish light. "Let's  
go."  
"There is no way I'm going  
through that thing."  
"Tucker, we don't have time for  
this!" Church proclaimed, glaring  
at his teammate. "Why would they  
give us a teleporter, if it  
doesn't work?"  
"I don't know! Why would they  
give a tank nobody can  
drive?!" Tucker argued.  
"We already tested the teleporter  
remember?"  
Tucker scoffed, "We threw  
rocks through it."  
"Yeah, and, so what? The rocks  
came out the other side, didn't  
they?"  
"Yeah, but they were all hot, and  
covered with black stuff."  
"Oh, so I guess that's what  
this is all about, then? You're  
afraid of a little black stuff."  
"Yes, I am. I'm afraid  
of black stuff." Tucker  
admitted without shame.  
Church pulled out a small  
assault rifle, and raised it  
to be aimed at Tucker's forehead.  
"Tucker," he replied. "I almost  
hate to do this to you."  
"You wouldn't."  
"You know, I look at it this  
way either: A, we go through there, and  
det the flag back. Or, B,  
we stay here, and I get to kill  
you."  
The two stood for a moment, both  
silent. Then finally, Church  
added, almost in a gloating manner,  
"Either way, I win."  
Another minute, a minute  
that they could have used to catch this guy,  
Church mused, passed by, and  
finally Tucker sighed. "Fine. But,  
for the record, rocks aren't people."  
"Duely noted," Church lowered  
the weapon to his side, and smiled  
to himself. "Now get in there."  
"Crap!" Tucker exclaimed,  
looking at the teleporter. "All  
right. One," he took a deep  
breath.  
"Two," a second, then  
he stepped into the teleporter.  
The teleporter seemed to make  
a whooshing sound as Tucker disappeared  
into the wind.  
Church and Caboose turned  
to the canyon, expecting Tucker  
to reappear. Then, Caboose  
replied slowly, "Huh, he  
didn't come out the other side."  
"Yeah. I've, I've decided  
I'm not gonna use the  
teleporter.  
Church, turned away from the  
canyon, then to the ramp leading  
to the ground.  
"Okay, rookie. You stay here,  
I'll be back with the flag."  
Church leaped off of the base's  
roof, deciding not to take the ramp  
either, and loped off into the distance.  
"I still have no idea what you're  
talking about." Simmons stated,  
looking out across the canyon. "I  
didn't hear any shots."  
Simmons was talking to Grif,  
naturally, who was using the sniper  
rifle the red team owned, to scan  
the canyon.  
"I'm telling you," he stated  
seriously. "There were four shots,  
like, bam, bam, bam,"  
"Wait a second, that was only  
three bams." Simmons pointed  
out.  
"Bam," Grif sighed.  
He examined the canyon again,  
his gaze coming across Donut, as he  
wandered through the canyon.  
"Wait a second." He  
scanned passed Donut, then  
to Church, whom had leaped from the  
roof and of the blue base. "we've  
got a blue guy on the move."  
"Oh? Where's he headed?"  
"Oh, crap!" Grif zoomed  
in, finally noticing the standard issue  
red armor. "It," he started,  
examining the guy to make sure he was  
not mistaken. "It's Donut.  
And he's got something. It looks  
like,"  
Simmons stood impatiently,  
as he watched Grif look through the  
sniper's scope.  
"It looks like," Grif turned,  
repeating the phrase, a confused  
expression on his face, as he  
looked to Simmons.  
"Simmons, get the Warthog."  
"You mean the Puma," Simmons  
commented sarcastically.  
"Yeah, keep making jokes,  
that'll win the war."  
He followed Simmons down  
the ramp, heading for the jeep, ready  
to go assist Donut.


	6. 1.21 Giga-Whats??

"Freeze!" Church shouted, his  
assault rifle as he stopped  
near Donut's position, which just  
so happened to be next to the  
teleporter's other exit.  
"Hey! Why the hell were you  
shooting at me? You could've hit  
me, dick!" Donut proclaimed.  
"Can it! Don't try to play  
stupid with me, Sarge! I know  
who ya are. We've been spying  
on you for three weeks now!"  
"I just got here two hours ago,  
and I'm not a Sergeant, I'm  
a Private," Donut countered.  
The two soldiers stood  
silently, Church with his weapon  
raised, and ready to shoot, as he  
carefully scanned Donut's  
armor. Neanwhile, Donut was  
glaring at Church, as if he'd just  
done something completely wrong.  
And, in Donut's opinion,  
Church had.  
"Wait a minute, you're not the  
Sergeant!" Church realized,  
lowering the rifle slightly.  
"Yeah, that's what I just said."  
"Well, then how the hell did  
you manage to steal our flag?"  
"Steal? I have no idea what  
you're talking abou,"  
"THREE!"  
The exclamation came with a bright  
flash of light, and both Church  
and Donut jumped at least a  
foot in the air, and three feet  
back.  
"Jesus!"  
"Holy shit! Who the hell is  
this guy?"  
A figure in armor, covered in  
a black material, stood between the  
two other soldiers, and at a  
closer glance, Church realized  
whom it was.  
"What in the hell? Tucker,  
is that you?"  
Tucker, his aquamarine armor  
covered in soot from the teleporter,  
blinked, and attempted to peer around  
the area. His vision was limited, and  
he could barely make out the outline of  
Church, then that guy they'd been  
chasing. "How did you get up  
here ahead of me?" Tucker finally  
asked, after fumbling for words.  
"And what's with that black shit on  
your armor?" Donut added.  
"Hey, freeze, Sarge!"  
Tucker was immediately on alert.  
"Would you stop calling me a  
Sergeant? I'm still just a  
Private!"  
"The Sarge is still just a  
Private?" Tucker asked, then  
he looked to Church.  
Finally, only one explanation  
could be found, and it was the only  
plausible reason for, anything right  
now.  
"Oh, my, God!" Tucker  
proclaimed, the idea dawning on  
him. "The teleporter sent me  
back in time."  
"Sorry, Lopez," Grif  
told the robot as he and Simmons  
neared the jeep. "We need the  
jeep."  
The robot nodded mutely as  
Simmons climbed to the backseat,  
stating, "I'll take gunner."  
Both brushed off the Mexican  
music that was playing from the stereos,  
almost to a volume where the blues would  
have heard them from miles away. But,  
Grif supposed there was nothing else  
he could do.  
"Let's roll," Simmons  
stated as Grif hopped into the driver  
seat.  
"How do you turn off the fucking  
radio in this thing?" Grif asked as  
they pulled away from the base.  
Just before the car receeded into the  
canyon, Simmons called back  
to the silent robot, "Don't  
worry Lopez, we'll bring her  
back in one piece."  
"Look," Tucker was saying.  
"I know you don't know me, but you have  
to believe what I'm about to tell  
you." He looked at Church,  
almost as if he'd completely forgotten  
that the red rookie was still standing a few  
feet away from them. "Sometime in your  
future, I get stationed here in  
Blood Gulch, and we meet.  
And this guy gets promoted  
to Sergeant of the red army, and we  
spy on them."  
Church just looked blankly at  
Tucker, as if he'd just lost his  
mind, just listening to his droning  
speech, telling of what he thought  
happened.  
"And then, they get this jeep, and  
I'm all like, "You can't pick  
up chicks in a tank," and,"  
"Tucker," Church finally cut  
in, "What the fuck are babbling  
about?"  
"I know all this sounds crazy,  
but, he eventually becomes the  
Sergeant, and then one day we  
get a tank, and he comes and steals  
our flag while we're distracted."  
Meanwhile, the blue flag was  
on the ground, not too far in front  
of Donut.  
"Is this guy a retard?"  
As if it were the sound of impending  
doom, Mexican music could be  
heard in the background. But, none  
of the three soldiers noticed it  
at first, as it grew steadily louder,  
and louder.  
"Red, shut up." Church  
ordered harshly. "Tucker, listen  
to me. Ya haven't gone back in  
time, okay? This is the guy that stole  
the flag, he 'so just not the Sergeant.  
It turns out, he's just some dumb  
rookie who just so happened to have the  
same color armor as him. He  
got in somehow, just," Church turned,  
but failed to notice the jeep  
speeding their way. "For God's  
sake, what is that music?!"  
That was when the jeep came speeding  
over a rise, into view, and down,  
straight for the blues, and Donut,  
whom all jumped back, its   
machine-gun spitting out bullets  
wildly.  
"Woohoo!" Grif yelled  
at the top of his lungs.  
"Holy shit!"  
"Son of a bitch!"  
Both Tucker and Donut yelled  
at the same time, so Church had  
a hard time making out who was who.  
"Jesus," he yelled himself.  
"Run!"  
As Donut screamed, like a  
sissy Church thought, he and  
Tucker made for cover behind some  
rocks as the latter spoke in  
confusion and incredulity. "The jeep  
followed me back in time."  
The matter still unresolved,  
Church and Tucker laid low behind  
the rock cover while bullets  
bounced against it, harmlessly falling  
to the ground, or dispersing.  
As Simmons yelled obscene  
insults at the blues, which he was  
not hitting, Grif might add,  
he stopped the jeep at a good  
angle toward the boulder, and stepped  
out.  
He looked at Donut, who  
seemed to be grateful that they had  
come when they had.  
"What the hell's going on here?"  
Grif asked.  
"You know what," Donut  
proclaimed. "I honestly have no  
idea what's going on. I think  
that everyone in this canyon, is  
absolutely insane!"  
Tell me about it, Grif  
thought to himself.  
"How did you get the flag?"  
he asked after a moment, looking  
down at it.  
"I dunno, I just asked for it."  
"Wait, that worked?"  
"I guess, is it not supposed  
to?"  
"I don't know," Grif looked  
at the flag again, incredulous at  
the strategy. "We never even thought  
to try that. Just take the flag to the  
base, I'll explain there."  
"Not until someone tells me  
what the fu,"  
"There's no time to explain,  
rookie!" Grif replied quickly.  
"Just take the flag, and go to the  
base! I'll explain everything  
there!"  
"Fine," Donut huffed, and  
started for the blue base.  
"Back to our base, dumbass!"  
Grif yelled, and Donut  
promptly turned, and stomped off  
toward to the red base.  
"I know, just got turned around,  
that's all."  
"Oh man!" Caboose observed  
the whole scene from the roof, holding  
Church's sniper rifle in his hands.  
He looked through the scope at the  
red team, whom had their jeep parked  
near a boulder. But, they seemed  
to be completely ignoring Caboose,  
who still stood on the roof. "That's  
not good. Oh, my god, that jeep  
has a really big gun!"  
Finally, his gaze landed on the  
tank below.  
"Stay here," he pondered,  
"Tank. Stay here, tank."  
Bullets rang through the air  
as Caboose pondered his situation,  
and the chances he had of survival,  
if he got involved.  
"Ah, screw it!"  
"Well, we'll just wait here,"  
Church decided as he and Tucker  
sat behind the boulder. Church had  
taken a peek around the massive  
rock, and still noticed the jeep.  
Not that the sound wasn't enough  
clarification that the reds wanted them  
dead. "That thing has to run out of  
bullets sometime."  
Meanwhile, they sat for many,  
many minutes, the jeep staying put,  
firing at the rocks.  
This was the first piece of action that  
the reds and blues had had in ages.


	7. Check Out The Treads On That Tank

After maybe ten minutes, the  
jeep was still in the same place,  
and both of the blue soldiers were  
becoming very restless.  
"My god, doesn't that thing  
ever run out of bullets?" Church  
asked, peeking out a second time.  
"You know, in hindsight,"  
Tucker mused, looking down at his  
hands. "We should have brought the tank."  
"Hey, um, Tucker," Church  
replied, "What good is a tank  
gonna do us if nobody here knows  
how to drive it?"  
"Yeah, I can see how, hiding  
behind a rock is a much better  
strategy."  
"Well, yeah, but," Church  
sighed, "Man, I guess I've  
got to give that one to ya."  
Caboose hopped into the driver's  
seat of the tank, and started the engines.  
Altogether not too hard, yet.  
"Hello, and thank you for  
activating the M-808-V  
main battle tank. You may call  
me, Sheila."  
"Hello, Sheila,. Big,  
tank lady." Caboose said  
slowly.  
"Would you like me to run the  
Tutorial Program?"  
"Oh, that'd be very nice. Thank  
you."  
"Tutorial Program,  
activated. This program is  
intended to instruct non-certified  
personnel in the use of this  
Scorpion-class tank. Let's  
begin with some driving." Sheila informed  
Caboose, as they started away from  
the base.  
"Okay."  
"Simmons."  
Grif called from where he stood.  
But, his teammate in maroon did  
not answer.  
"SIMMONS!" he yelled,  
at the top of his lungs.  
The firing stopped, and Simmons  
looked at him. "Man that thing is  
loud!"  
"What?" Simmons called from  
his position.  
"Come on, let's sneak around  
back of the rock, and get them out."  
"OKAY!" Simmons yelled,  
having been temporarily deafened by the  
sound of machine-gun fire.  
"Keep it down, Jesus!"  
Grif swore as they started away  
from the jeep. "Let's go, before they  
figure out what's going on."  
"Now that you've mastered driving the  
M-808-V, let's move  
onto some of the safety features."  
Sheila spoke to Caboose.  
"No, no, wait! Go back!"  
he instructed. "Why are there six  
pedals, if there're only four  
directions?"  
This question was unanswered as he  
continued onward.  
"Hey," Church whsispered  
to Tucker. "They stopped firing."  
"Why are you whispering?"  
"Uh, I don't know."  
"Ah crap!" Grif, stated,  
examining the path they had intended  
to take. "I don't think we're  
gonna get around this way."  
"Tell me again, why did we  
get out of the jeep?"  
"Well, I guess it was this,  
or sit there, and watch you shoot  
rocks all day long."  
"At least that was fun!"  
Simmons protested.  
With a purring motor running behind  
them, both turned around to see the  
long barrel of a tank's cannon  
pointed straight at them.  
Grif blinked, staying very still as it  
scanned the area, apparently not  
having seen them yet.  
"Holy crap!" he spoke  
slowly as he looked up. "What  
in God's name is that thing?"  
"Tucker, don't be stupid.  
They're just trying to draw us out!"  
Church reprimanded his friend.  
"No they're not, look,"  
Tucker was peering around the corner  
of the boulder which they had taken refuge  
behind.  
"They left the jeep, they're gone."  
"Well, I don't know about this,  
it seems pretty fishy, but, all  
right, screw it. Let's go get  
it."  
"Dude, hold still." Grif  
assured Simmons as the barrel  
of the cannon passed right over them.  
"I don't think it sees us."  
Two beeps came, and then,  
a constant, higher-pitched beep  
emitted from the tank.


	8. Don't Ph34r The Reaper

"Why is it just sitting there?"  
Grif and Simmons stood before the  
large tank, its cannon aimed  
at them. But, neither could puzzle out  
its reasoning for not shooting.  
"Just trying to mess with our heads.  
Let's get back to the  
Warthog." Simmons remarked  
slowly, almost as if the tank could  
sense his words.  
"This tank is equipped with an  
Auto-Fire sequence, that can be  
activated by pressing the  
Auto-Fire button.  
"Auto-Fire,  
Auto-Fire," Caboose's  
fingers flew across the controls as  
he searched for the button he was  
looking for. The only way to test  
its value was by pressing a button,  
and seeing how much damage it caused.  
"Here! No, wait, don't push  
the button." Caboose chided  
himself, as he began to lower his hand  
to press the button.  
Meanwhile, Sheila was talking  
about things he couldn't quite understand.  
"Okay, you ready?" Simmons  
asked, both himself and Grif poised  
to run. "Let's do this on three.  
One,"  
"Wait,," Grif interjected.  
"On three, or three and then go?"  
"On three, it's always faster  
to go on three."  
"Okay. On three,"  
"Here!"  
Caboose jabbed the button,  
activating the Auto-Fire  
sequence.  
"Tutorial deactivated.  
Auto-Fire sequence,  
activated." Sheila informed.  
"Ready?" Simmons asked.  
Meanwhile, Church took a  
deep breath, before exhaling he  
stated, "I'm going for the jeep,  
cover me."  
"Acquiring targets." A  
picture of the greens, and greys  
of Blood Gulch filled a screen  
in the tank, and Caboose saw  
the cannon rotate to fix on  
Simmons and Grif.  
"One,"  
"Target acquired."  
Grif began hyperventilating,  
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"  
he muttered as he noticed the  
cannon's aim moving slowly.  
It finally rested on the jeep.  
"Two,"  
"Target locked."  
Grif backed away from  
Simmons, beginning to run away  
from both Simmons, and the tank, but   
as well, not in the direction of the  
Warthog.  
"Three!"  
Simmons turned, and looked,  
but Grif was gone. "Oh, you  
backstabbing cockbite!"  
The cannon seemed to glow as the  
final words were emitted from the tank's  
voice-over system, as it locked  
onto the jeep. "Firing main  
cannon."  
The Warthog exploded in a  
shower of sparks, and metal  
shrapnel, the explosion itself flipping  
what remained of the car onto its  
side.  
Almost as one, Grif,  
Simmons, and Church yelled,  
"Son of a bitch!"  
"Firing main cannon." Sheila  
reported once more, rocking the  
already damaged Warthog.  
"Shit!"  
Despite being used to the sounds of  
war, Grif would never get used to that  
explosion.  
"Firing main cannon,"  
"Damn it!"  
"Firing main cannon."  
Four explosions, and finally,  
Tucker came out of cover, coming  
alongside Church.  
"Hey dude, the jeep blew  
up." he observed.  
"No kidding! Thanks for the  
update, Tucker!" Church  
snapped back.  
"Ciring main cannon."  
A fifth explosion came,  
then a sixth, as Simmons  
reprimanded Grif.  
"Hey, I've got an idea,  
let's get out of the jeep, and sneak  
around behind the rocks," he mimicked  
Grif. "Great plan, you idiot!"  
"All targets eliminated."  
Sheila told Caboose, who  
sat in the driver's seat of the  
tank. "Acquiring new target."  
"Hey, Tucker! Look at  
this!" Church noted the tank, and  
Caboose inside. "It's the  
the rokie! And he brought the  
tank out to scare off the reds."  
Church did not need to add that it had  
worked, for the most part.  
"What? No way!"  
"Hey, rookie! Good job,  
man!" Church called up  
to Caboose. "Why didn't you  
tell us you knew how to drive the  
tank?"  
"New target acquired."  
Sheila spoke, and the cannon  
aimed for Church's head.  
"That's not a target, that's  
Church." Caboose remarked  
cheerfully. But, the cannon did  
not move.  
"Yeah, that's right, it's me,  
Church! What's going on, man?"  
"Target locked."  
A beeping came to the soldiers'  
ears, red, and blue alike.  
"What? No! Target unlock,  
unlock!" Caboose commanded  
frantically. "Please help me  
nice lady!"  
Caboose attempted to find a  
button, anything to stop the cannon.  
He did anything he could, but nothing  
worked.  
"Firing main cannon."  
Sheila spoke finally, and for a  
moment, time seemed to stop, the  
greens, blues, reds, and greys  
of Blood Gulch standing still for this  
one, fateful turning point in the  
war.  
"Uh-oh!" everyone spoke at  
once, everyone but Church.  
Leonard Church stood before  
the Scorpion-class tank: the  
M-808-V, also known as  
Sheila, and stared death full in the  
face. All he could say was,  
"What? Oh, son of a,"  
And this time, when the explosion  
came, he was ready.  
Tucker immediately ran to Church's  
side, and knelt down. "Holy  
fuck! Church, are you okay?  
Talk to me, Church!" Then he  
turned to Caboose, who had  
slumped in his seat. "You shot  
Church, you team-killing  
fucktard!" he insulted.  
"Auto-Fire sequence,  
deactivated."  
"Tucker," Church gasped,  
and Tucker turned immediately, to face  
his friend, and teammate. "Tucker."  
he called again.  
"Church!" Tucker responded.  
"It's going to be okay, man!"  
"No, I'm, I'm not gonna  
make it. Tucker, there's something  
I need to tell you."  
"What is it?" Tucker asked  
slowly.  
"I just want you to know," he  
paused, taking a slow breath. "I  
always hated you. I always hated you  
the most."  
In that moment, Church sounded more  
alive than he had merely a few  
days before, when he and Tucker had  
been spying on the reds.  
"Yeah, I know you did,"  
Tucker remarked, standing. "Now  
hurry up and die, you prick."  
"Okay," a smirk crossed  
Church's dying face, as he took  
his final breath.


	9. After Church

"What happened?" Donut,  
whom had been at the red base,  
asked in greeting, as both Grif,  
and Simmons came running back.  
Simmons was barely winded, but  
Grif, once they stopped, was  
panting, his hands on his knees.  
Donut could tell that, if Grif  
weren't wearing his helmet, he'd be  
able to see sweat on the soldier's  
forehead.  
"Big, tank," Grif panted,  
"Shooting. Whoo!" he collapsed,  
leaning against the building.  
"Damn man, we only ran  
like 300 feet, you're really out of  
shape."  
"Fuck, you." Grif glared  
at Simmons.  
"Where's your car?"  
"General Patton here, had  
a great strategy to leave it behind."  
"Hey, it would've worked if that  
tank hadn't shown up." Grif  
protested, catching his breath.  
"You lost the jeep? Oh man,  
Lopez is gonna be pissed!"  
Donut remarked. "Where is it?"  
Across the canyon, an explosion  
occurred, the evidence that the tank  
was firing at the jeep, blowing it  
to even smaller bits and pieces.  
Someone shouted, "What the hell  
is that?" Grif wasn't sure who.  
"Son of a bitch!" he cried as  
another explosion hit the canyon  
floor, much closer thañ hitting  
the car.  
"Oh, crap! What the hell is  
that thing?!"  
"That's the tank!" Grif  
exclaimed as yet another explosion  
came.  
Grif, Simmons, and Donut  
looked to the tank, its cannon  
aimed straight at the blue flag.  
When it shot, the explosion was  
feet away from them.  
"Hey, uh, Grif, you want  
to hold the flag for a bit?" Donut  
asked, smiling wickedly at him.  
"No! Keep that away from me!"  
Grif exclaimed, the explosions  
getting just a little closer.  
Out in the middle of the canyon,  
closer to the blue base, Tucker  
admitted, Caboose still sat in  
the tank's driver's seat,  
the cannon turned back to the car.  
Explosion after explosion rocked  
the debris, but it was already scrap  
metal.  
"Why do you keep firing at the  
jeep?" Tucker asked, jumping  
into the passenger seat.  
"Because it's locked on."  
As if on cue, Sheila  
announced, "Target locked." still  
focused on the jeep.  
"Well, unlock it." Tucker  
ordered.  
"Last time I unlocked it,  
I killed Church!" Caboose  
shouted, clearly unnerved by the action.  
"Oh, right. Keep shooting the  
jeep then," Tucker remarked.  
"I hate to be the one to point  
this out guys," Donut said.  
"But, I think we're screwed."  
"Yeah," Simmons admitted.  
"I have to agree with the rookie on  
this one."  
A whirring sound came from the  
communicator and Sarge's Southern  
drawl spoke: "Blood Gulch  
Outpost #1. Come in Blood  
Gulch Outpost, do you read me?  
This is Sergeant,"  
"Oh, my god, Sarge! Is  
that you?"  
"Roger that, Private. I am  
currently in bounds to your position  
from Command."  
"Sir," Simmons called.  
"This is Simmons."  
"Hello, Simmons. I  
hope everything's been goin' all  
right, while I've been gone."  
"Actually, sir," Grif  
interrupted Simmons before he  
could respond. "Things are kind of  
hectic right now. The new rookie  
arrived, and somehow he managed  
to infiltrate the blue base.  
And now we have the flag, the Warthog  
is damaged, one of the guys is  
dead, and there's this huge fucking  
tank about destroy our base."  
After a pause, which was filled with  
static, Sarge spoke again. "Am  
I talking to the right base?"  
"Sarge, we are going to die  
here!" Grif reported, summing  
up the situation.  
"Well then, hold tight,  
boys," Sarge replied, "I  
think I gotta solution to your little  
"tank" problem."  
Tucker blinked, having  
overheard the conversation, even through  
the explosions, but he definitely  
caught the last sentence.  
"Uh-oh," he remarked,  
hopping out of the tank.  
Above the canyon, a whooshing  
sound met Tucker's ears, just as  
he began to warn Caboose.  
"Hey, Caboose? You might  
want to get out of the tank. Like,  
right now."  
"I can't think how to get this thing  
open!" Caboose was frantically  
pushing buttons, one of which  
Sheila announced, "Night vision  
engaged."  
"Rookie! Get out, now!"  
Tucker warned as the attacking  
plane above them came ever so  
closer.  
Caboose panted, finally,  
he resorted to asking Sheila,  
"Okay, okay," he panted,  
"Open the ' I, Sheila, will  
you open the door?"  
"Driver canopy open.  
Thank you for using the More-808-V  
main battle,"  
BOOOM!  
"Crap, oh crap, oh crap!  
Running, running, running!"  
Caboose cried as he sprinted  
for his life, away from the tank,  
which was flipped completely upside  
down, parts being thrown away from it,  
completely disabling it.  
"Man, that was close!"  
"Look at your tank though,"  
Tucker pointed to the sparking tank.  
"I'm scared, Dave,"  
Sheila was saying, "Will I dream?  
Davie, Davie."  
Her voice got lower, and lower  
pitched, and as the plane that had  
hit the tank flew away,  
Caboose cried out into the daylight,  
"Sheila! No!"  
"No, Sheila! Sheila!"  
Tucker called out, finally stopping  
to look at Caboose in confusion.  
"Wait, who's Sheila?"  
"Sheila's the lady in the tank.  
She was my friend."  
"Oh, dude! I knew you could  
pick up chicks in a tank!"  
While Tucker celebrated  
his triumph, one which nobody would  
care about, Caboose mourned the  
loss of his first, and only friend.


	10. A Shadow Of His Former Self

At blue base, after the whole  
incident of Church's death, the  
loss of their tank, and  
Caboose's excessive crying,  
and a day passing found Tucker using  
his radio to call blue Command.  
"Come in, blue Command, this  
is Blood Gulch Outpost  
Alpha. Do you read me?"  
Meanwhile, Caboose had been  
slaving over cleaning Tucker's  
armor of the soot that had remained,  
even after this long.  
"Okay, that's the last of it," he  
replied as he stepped away. "Your  
armor is completely clean now."  
"Did you get all the black  
stuff off?" Tucker whispered  
to him.  
But, before Caboose could answer,  
another voice spoke, the voice  
of their Command leader.  
"This is blue Command, come in,  
Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha."  
"Hello, Command. We need  
help!"  
"Roger that, Blood Gulch,  
what is your request?"  
"I don't know what the  
technical term is for it, but,  
uh, we're pretty fucked up  
down here. We need men."  
It took a second for the  
response to come, and it sounded almost  
resigned.  
"Dude, how long have you guys  
been down there?"  
"No, no, no! It's not like  
that. We need more men to help us.  
"Roger that," came the calm  
reply. "Did you get the tank  
we sent?"  
"Yeah, that 1got blown up  
too." Tucker admitted.  
"Wow, sucks to be you."  
"Yeah, we know."  
"Okay, here's what I can  
do," Command explained, "The  
nearest forces can be there in 16  
days, or I,"  
"Sixteen days?" Tucker  
blurted out. "That's almost tjo  
weeks!"  
"Or, I can hire a nearby  
freelancer and get him there within  
a few hours."  
"I like the "in an hour" one."  
Caboose remarked.  
"Yeah, me too. Roger that,  
Command. We prefer the quicker  
solution."  
"Ten-four, Blood Gulch. I  
will contact Freelancer Tex, and have  
him there post-haste. Command out."  
"Who ever he is, make sure  
he can fix a tank." Tucker  
said, just as the connection went dead.  
"What's a freelancer?"  
Caboose asked, looking at  
Tucker.  
"Freelancers are independent.  
They're not red, or blue, they're  
just guns for hire, who will fight for  
who ever has the most money."  
Tucker explained.  
"Like a mercenary!" Caboose  
said, catching on.  
"Right, or, like your mom, when the  
rent's due."  
The two chuckled for a moment,  
and Caboose said, "Oh, that's  
funny!"  
"Yeah? You didn't think that was  
too obvious?"  
"No, no, not at all. It was  
good." Caboose assured him.  
"Tucker, Tucker!"  
"Who the hell are you?"  
A sheen of light came,  
floating, toward Tucker and  
Caboose, his outline çlearly  
that of a fallen soldier who knew  
Tucker's name.  
"I am the ghost of Church, and  
I've come back with a warning!"  
the ghost said, using a voice like a  
cartoon ghost.  
"You're not Church." Caboose  
said skeptically. "Church is  
blue. You're white."  
The figure glared at  
Caboose, clear evidence that this  
was indeed, Church, ghost or no.  
"Rookie, shut up, man!"  
Church exclaimed, "I'm a  
freaking ghost! Have you ever seen a  
blue ghost before?!"  
"Yeah, that's definitely him,"  
Tucker muttered.  
"Now I've got to start over  
again," Church said. He cleared  
his throat, and did as he said.  
"Tucker, Tucker! I've come  
back with a warning!"  
"Is it really necessary to do the  
voice?" Tucker asked, a little  
annoyed.  
"Yeah, it's kind of annoying."  
Caboose admitted.  
"Fine," Church sighed,  
"Okay, here's the deal. I've  
come back from the dead to give you a  
warning about Tex. Don't let,"  
"What's the warning?"  
"Shut up, for one second, and  
I'll tell you!" Church blurted  
out.  
"Oh, sorry,"  
"Seriously man, I mean,  
I'm coming back from the Great Beyond  
here. Do you think this is easy?  
It's not. It's not like I can just,  
you know, pop in and out whenever I  
feel like it. It takes a lot of  
concentration!"  
"Sorry," Caboose repeated,  
but Church was having none of it.  
"I mean, it's bad enough that you  
killed me in the first place, but now  
I come back, and I can't even get  
a word in edge-wise, man!"  
Tucker watched the two, and  
wondered, why didn't Caboose  
retaliate. But, that was another  
question, for another time.  
For a moment, everything was quiet  
between the trio, and finally Church  
spoke up again, "Okay, here's  
the deal," he started again.  
"Is this the warning?" Caboose  
asked.  
"All right, that's it, I swear  
to God, Caboose," Church  
said, his tone dangerously close  
to a complete anger break-down.  
"You're ass is haunted. When  
this is done, I'm going to haunt  
you."  
"Yeah, you're even starting  
to annoy me," Tucker admitted.  
"Okay, Tucker, you remember  
I was stationed on Sidewinder before  
they transferred me to Blood  
Gulch, right?"  
"No."  
"Sidewinder, isn't that the  
ice planet?" Caboose asked,  
when Church was done talking.  
"Yes."  
"Cool! What was that like?"  
"Um, it was cold:"  
"That's it? Just, cold?"  
Caboose countered.  
"What do you want from me?"  
Church fired back. "A poem?  
It's a planet made entirely  
out of ice. It's really, fucking,  
cold!" Church jabbed a finger at  
Caboose to emphasize his point.  
"Would you just let him talk?"  
Tucker asked, also glaring at  
Caboose.  
"All right, well, one day,  
when I was there, everything was just like  
normal. I remember, I was out  
on patrol with my partner,  
Jimmy. That Jimmy was a really  
good kid, everybody liked him."  
Church reminisced.  
"Do you think I was a good kid,  
Church?" Tucker asked.  
"Tucker, don't get jealous,  
man," Church chided his friend, "Just  
listen to the story, okay?"  
Tucker nodded.  
"Like I said, guys were hanging  
around, waiting for some action, bitching  
about the cold. Anyway, Jimmy  
was in the middle of telling me about this  
girlfriend he had back home.  
He had said, "Yep, as soon as  
I get back, I'm gonna get  
down on one knee, and ask her  
to marry me." And that's when Tex  
showed up."  
The three were silent for a moment  
or so, looking at one another as  
Church continued to remember the past.  
"Private Mickey was the first  
to go," Church continued. "He was  
halfway across the base when all  
of a sudden he just started screaming  
bloody murder."  
On the ice planet,  
Sidewinder, a figure clad in  
black armor slammed a fist into a  
man's face as he screamed as  
he collapsed. But, the figure  
continued to strike the man.  
In Blood Gulch Church just  
kept speaking, looking back at the  
past.   
"The whole thing was over before it  
even started. Poor Jimmy was the  
last to go."  
Ice swirled around a large  
base, and figures in armor fell  
before a gun's bullet, and the  
black-clad figure. Finally,  
she stepped up to confront the man,  
Jimmy, standing next to Church.  
Both were frozen in place,  
paralyzed by the sight of every soldier,  
dead within seconds.  
"Tex walked up to him, pulled  
Jimmy's skull right out of his head,  
and beat him to death with it."  
"Wait a second. How can  
you beat someone to death with their own  
skull? That doesn't seem  
physically possible."  
"That's exactly what Jimmy  
kept screaming." Church  
exaggerated.  
"The bottom line is: These  
Freelancers, they're bad  
news," Church finished. "And  
Tex, is one of the worst."  
"If he's such a badass, why  
didn't he kill you?"  
"Hey, I don't know why I'm  
not dead. Could've killed me at  
any point. But, maybe it's because  
Tex and I have run into each other  
before."  
"Where?" Tucker asked, immediately  
skeptical.  
"You uh, you remember that girl  
I told you about back home?  
Well, let's just say that, Tex  
is the real reason why we never  
got married."  
Tucker gave him a sypathetic  
look as Church seemed to go  
transparent.  
"Guys, I'm fading fast, and  
I don't know when I'll be  
back. Just listen to my warning.  
Don't let Tex get involved  
in anything here."  
"Okay." Tucker agreed.  
"I mean it, Tucker. No  
fighting, no scouting, nothing.  
You'll regret it."  
After Church's disappearance,  
Tucker looked at Caboose,  
and finally spoke again.  
"So, Tex and Church were after the  
same girl."  
"I told you his girlfriend was a  
slut," Caboose remarked.  
Tucker shrugged it off, and started  
back toward the base, wondering  
what to do in the hours before Tex's  
arrival.  
He just hoped that Tex could  
fix a tank so they could have the upper  
hand when it came to fighting the reds.


	11. Knock, knock. Who's there? Pain.

Red base seemed to be silent  
but for the twisting and turning of a  
tool which Grif couldn't quite remember  
the name of. He, Simmons,  
Sarge, Donut, and Lopez were  
out in front of the base while Sarge  
worked on the damaged jeep. Grif,  
meanwhile, was explaining to Sarge,  
what had happened.  
"And then I thought," he continued,  
"That, you know, we could sneak around the  
side, while they were hiding behind the  
rock, so, that's when the tank showed  
up, and, shit just started blowin' up.  
I don't know," Grif sighed as  
the tightening sound the tool made  
quickened for a second.  
Sarge too, sighed, and set the  
tool down as he stood. "Grif,  
do you have any godly idea how much  
this piece of equipment cost?"  
"I, I don't know, like, uh,  
like 10, 20, 25 bucks,  
maybe?" Sarge was nonplused.  
"You're gonna kill me now,  
aren't you?"  
"Tell you what, Grif,"  
Sarge turned to look at Grif.  
"I'm a fair man. I'll give  
you a ten second head start, here,  
before I let Lopez do anything he  
wants to ya."  
"Guys, I just want you to know.  
I'm really, really sorry here,"  
"Five Mississippi.  
Six Mississippi." Sarge  
counted.  
"Okay, uh, I guess I  
better get going then."  
Grif started sprinting off into the  
middle of the canyon, and after a few  
seconds, Sarge's shotgun in  
hand, a tool by in the other, Lopez  
followed at a quick trot.  
From the canyon's center, shots  
could be heard, and Grif called out,  
"Hey guys, that's not funny!  
Somebody could get here!"  
"That's basically it, sir,"  
Tucker explained to the figure in  
black armor, known as Freelancer  
Tex. "They have five guys over  
there, and a big jeep."  
"And your flag," Tex said.  
Tex wasn't someone who spoke  
a lot, but when words issued from  
Tex's mouth, they sparked fear  
into anyone.  
"Yeah, that too."  
Tex prepared to practice  
any weapon's training that could be  
gotten during the conversation that  
Tucker thought was being ignored.  
After throwing a grenade after  
Caboose, who had been entering the  
base, the grenade exploding just  
short of the building, Tucker had  
to speak. "Uh, Tex. I don't  
know what it's been like at your other  
bases, but we try not to use other  
soldiers as target practice  
here."  
Caboose cowered in the doorway,  
"I'm scared." he mumbled.  
"So, you've got the Special  
Forces black armor, I see.  
Were you in the Special Forces at  
some point."  
Tex did not respond.  
"Yeah, I used to have black  
armor too," Tucker rambled on.  
"It was black because I got this stuff  
all over it from the te,"  
Tex blatantly ignored  
Tucker, starting to walk away.  
"Oh, okay, you've got to go?  
I'll see you later."  
"I don't think he likes  
you." Caboose sidled up beside  
Tucker as he whispered.  
"Thanks."  
Tex started off into Blood  
Gulch's large, boxed canyon,  
and stopped as Tucker's voice  
drifted across the air. "Where are  
you going?"  
Tex turned back, and with an  
expression of stone, replied,  
"Red base. Kill everybody.  
Get the flag back."  
Church's warning was the first thing  
that Tucker thought of, but he only  
stared after Tex as Caboose  
remarked, "Oh, okay!"  
It was too late to turn back  
now. "We'll just stay here, and  
guard the ' transporter."  
After the incident between Grif and  
Lopez, Grif was talking with  
Simmons, like usual, explaining  
to him, what happened with Sarge.  
"So, Sarge thought my strategy  
had merit, but was poorly  
executed. Probably because somebody  
didn't believe in it,"  
"Bullshit." Simmons was  
skeptical. "He told me he  
thought you were a retardeda monkey,  
and he's going to suspend your  
weapons' privileges."  
"Hey, since I captured the  
flag," Donut started in, standing  
next to the two. "Do you think they'll  
give me my own color armor?"  
"What do you mean "captured."  
You thought you were buying it at the store,  
you idiot!" Simmons stated.  
"Still, do you think there's a shot?"  
"Maybe they'll give you  
Grif's armor, since he  
destroyed the Warthog." Simmons  
conspired.  
"Ha, yeah," Grif started,  
then faltered. "Wait, you don't  
think they'd do that, do you?"  
The red soldiers stood on the  
roof of the red base as each one  
pondered this question. Meanwhile,  
Sarge and Lopez were attempting  
to fix the jeep.  
"Try connecting that hose to that  
metal thingy. I think that's what's  
makin' that rattle."  
Lopez turned to look at him,  
stopping his work.  
"I think I'll let you do it."  
After a moment of further work,  
Lopez had progressed further,  
but another sound caught Sarge's  
ears, and he was immediately vigilant.  
"What the ' what was that?"  
"Simmons, what's going on?  
What's over there?" Grif asked  
as Simmons peered through the scope  
of the sniper rifle.  
"I thought I saw something for a  
second."  
"Hey, rookie, tuck the  
flag some place safe until we  
can figure out what's going on"  
"Good idea, I was sick of  
carrying this thing anyway." Donut  
turned to descend the ramp, and  
enter the base.  
Down below, the three looked at  
Sarge off to the side of the red base.  
Then their gazes came to attention  
in the middle of the canyon, where, behind  
a rock, an arm clad in black  
threw a grenade.  
"Diid you hear that?" Simmons  
asked.  
"Yeah."  
"Hey, what's goin' on?"  
Donut, who was in the entry of the  
base whispered.  
The grenade Agent Tex had  
thrown, landed on the top of  
Donut's helmet.  
"What the fuck?"  
"What?!"  
"What is that thing?"   
Both Grif and Simmons  
looked at the strange grenade. It  
didn't look the same as the standard  
grenades they used.  
"What thing?!" Donut asked,  
looking from Grif to Simmons.  
"There's something on your head."  
"What, is it a spider?  
Get it off!"  
"No," Simmons assured  
Donut. "It's not a spider.  
It's like, a blue thing."  
"What, like a blue spider?  
Get it off!" Donut repeated,  
only adding the adjective.  
"It's not a spider, now calm  
down!" Grif snapped.  
Meanwhile, the grenade hissed,  
and hissed away, tcking time down before  
its explosion.  
"It's some kind of fuzzy  
pulsating thing."  
"That doesn't sound much better  
than a spider."  
Grif and Simmons exchanged  
looks.  
"Does it hurt?"  
"No."  
"Maybe we should try to take it  
off."  
"Good idea, go for it."  
"Me?! By we, I meant you.  
Asshole,"  
"Well, somebody needs to get  
it off."  
None of the soldiers had noticed  
it start hissing. And none of them  
noticed it stop hissing.  
"Look," Donut continued,  
"It might be dangerous!"  
And that was when the explosion  
happened.  
While nobody was hurt,  
exactly, Donut was rendered  
unconscious by the bomb.  
"Son of a bitch!" both  
Grif and Simmons cried as a  
black figure ran forward,  
ready to attack.  
"Shit! Where'd he go?" Grif  
asked, attempting to attack Tex.  
When Tex appeared right in  
front of him, Grif raised an  
arm.  
"Don't kill me," he  
pleaded. "I'm too good looking  
to die!"  
Tex struck Dexter Grif  
to the ground.


	12. Down, But Not Out

The battle between the Freelancer,  
Tex, and the red team did not last  
too long.  
Tucker and Caboose were watching  
the whole thing unfold. Caboose  
with the sniper, Tucker attempting  
to look over his shoulder.  
"Don't kill me! I'm  
too good looking to die!" they  
heard one of the reds shout.  
"Man, he's really kicking  
their asses," Caboose remarked  
lazily as he watched.  
"How come I never get the  
fucking sniper rifle?" Tucker  
complained.  
"I'm really glad Tex is  
on our team, and not theirs."  
Caboose commented.  
"Sure makes things a lot  
easier on us."  
"Yeah."  
"I think switching Church for  
Tex was a good trade."  
"It definitely seems like your  
killing Church is starting to work out  
for us." Tucker agreed.  
"You know, you think so?" Caboose  
asked, "You know, I was gonna say  
something, but, uh, wait, no, that's  
not," Caboose trailed off.  
"Did Tex get in the base?"  
Tucker asked, having to rely on  
Caboose to tell him what  
happened.  
After a moment, Caboose did  
reply, "Yeah."  
"Blue team, flag return!"  
"What the ' who said that?!"  
Tucker asked as he and Caboose  
jumped.  
Someone cleared their throat from behind  
them. "Sorry, that was me. I, uh,  
I guess I had something stuck in  
my throat."  
Church stood behind them, his body  
a transparent blue. "Your flag  
is back by the way."  
"Hey, it's Church!"  
Caboose redundantly informed.  
"Yeah, it's me. Hey,  
Caboose."  
"Hey Church. What are you  
up to?"  
"Caboose," Church chuckled,  
and Tucker wondered if Church was  
feeling all right. He was not this nice  
to the rookie who had killed him in the  
first place. "I'm not really here  
to make small-talk, okay?  
How'd you guys manage to get your  
flag back?"  
"What? Oh! That flag, we've  
always had that!"  
Tucker looked at Church,  
then the flag, then he remembered  
the one warning Church had given them  
on his last visit.  
Don't let get Tex  
involved.  
"Tucker, who do you think you're  
trying to fo," he stopped, and  
looked around the area. "Hey, wait  
a second. Where's Tex?"  
"I'm not really sure. He  
said he was gonna go to the store,  
or something about, uh, elbow grease."  
"Oh, great! This is so  
typical!" Church snapped.  
"What was the one thing I told you  
guys, the last time I appeared?"  
He looked from Tucker,  
to Caboose, and back again,  
expectantly.  
"That, Sidewinder is cold?"  
"What was the OTHER, one thing  
I told you?"  
"Not to let him get involved?"  
"Right. And what did you do?"  
"We let him get involved."  
Tucker looked down at the ground.  
"And not just a little involved. How  
involved?"  
"Very, very involved." Caboose  
answered grimly.  
At red base, Sarge raised  
his shotgun, and turned.  
"Freeze." he stated  
authoritatively "Drop your  
weapon."  
"Hey, buddy." Tex said,  
looking Sarge in the eyes, or,  
where his eyes would be behind his visor.  
"What?"  
"You really better hope the first  
one knocks me out."  
"Ow! What the'" Grif roused,  
sitting up.  
He was lying in front of the base,  
his head throbbing. "My freaking  
head! Jesus!" he complained as  
he stood.  
"He's hurt Grif,"  
Simmons replied, coming forward.  
Grif immediately knew that he was  
talking about Donut. "He'll  
make it, but we need to get him some  
help, fast."  
"Yeah, yeah. Hold on a  
sec. What happened here? First  
Donut's head exploded. And then,  
you fainted. And then some black thing  
showed up, and,"  
"Whoa, whoa, wait! I did  
not faint. I got knocked out."  
"Okay, keep lying to yourself.  
Whatever helps you sleep at  
night." Grif stated.  
"Man, just go find Sarge. We  
need to get Donut outta here."  
"Yeah sure. Oh, and uh,  
I'm fine by the way, thanks for  
asking."  
Grif limped off, his head still  
throbbing, to find Sarge.  
"Whatever, no one likes you  
anyway." Simmons's voice  
followed him away from the area.  
"Yep, he's definitely  
captured," Caboose remarked,  
still looking through the sniper rifle's  
scope. "Or dead. Captured,  
or dead. Or, captured and dead!"  
"Oh, well, that's just perfect!"  
"What? What is your problem?  
Why do you even care if he's  
captured?!" Tucker protested,  
looking at Church. "I thought you  
hated that guy anyway, for stealing  
your girlfriend."  
"I never said I hated Tex.  
I just said that she was the reason why we  
never got married."  
Tucker gasped.  
"She?" Caboose asked,  
turning from the scope.  
"Sarge! We need to get  
Donut airlifted outta here!"  
Simmons reported.  
"Could you put that in a memo, and  
entitle it: Shit I Already  
Know?!" Sarge snapped, glaring  
at Simmons. "Get on the  
radio to Command!"  
On the ground, Tex lay, her  
body just rousing.  
"Well, look who's up!  
Rise and shine, buttercup!"  
Sarge taunted.  
Static came, then a hand slowly  
reached up to hit a switch, and a  
female's voice came from the  
mouthpiece of the armort Freelancer  
Tex wore.  
"Oh, great! You broke my  
voice filter," she replied,  
"You cockbiting fucktards!"  
"Ahah! I knew it! Only  
a chick could give you a headache this  
big!" Grif snorted, glaring  
at Tex.  
Meanwhile, Sarge and  
Simmons looked at her as if she  
were something completely alien. Finally  
she had to speak.  
"What's the matter? You've  
never seen a girl before?" When they  
did not respond, she continued with a  
final question. "How long have you guys  
been out here?"


	13. Human Peer Bonding

Both red and blue bases  
seemed to be quiet, except for the  
chatter of the respective teams  
residing there. And at blue base,  
Church, Tucker, and Caboose  
stood near the wreckage of  
Sheila, Caboose wielding the  
sniper rifle to look out into the  
canyon. Meanwhile, behind him,  
Tucker and Church stood, talking  
about Tex.  
"Let me get this straight,"  
Tucker looked at Church.  
"You're telling me that the guy that  
showed up here, scared the living shit  
out of us, shot at Caboose, and  
beat the hell out of the reds, wasn't  
a guy at all? That he was a  
chick, and on top of that, she was  
your ex-girlfriend?"  
"In a nut shell, yes.  
That's an excellent summary,"  
Church remarked.  
"I should've known. She didn't  
like me." Caboose stated.  
"Girls never like me."  
"Caboose, I don't think  
anybody likes you."  
"I like me," Caboose lowered  
the sniper rifle, which was pointed into the  
canyon still, while he stood facing  
the other two.  
"I don't think I've seen a  
girl that mean before." Tucker  
marveled, getting back on track  
with the topic. "Are you sure she's a  
chick, and not a guy? Or, like,  
part guy, part shark?"  
Church blinked at Tucker in  
confusion. "I'm pretty sure I  
would know if Tex was a guy. And  
I'm definitely sure I would  
know if she was part shark."  
"Wait, wait, wait."  
Caboose stopped them. "If she's  
a girl, then why is she named  
Tex?"  
"Uh, because she's from Texas."  
Church looked at Caboose, who  
stared blankly back at him.  
"Trust me, it makes sense.  
And you can't blame her for being so  
aggressive. It's not entirely her  
fault to begin with."  
"Right, you should blame God,"  
Tucker agreed. "First he makes  
hangovers, and now half-women,  
half-sharks that won't even sleep  
with me," Tucker looked up to the  
sky, and shouted, "Thanks for nothing,  
God!"  
"Will you shut up with that? She  
got recruited into some kind of  
weird experimental program  
back during Basic, where they  
infused her armor with this really  
aggressive AI. I'm not  
really sure how it all works, but  
all I know is that it made her  
meaner, and tougher than hell."  
Church explained.  
"AI?" Caboose murmured.  
"What's the A stand for?"  
"Artifical."  
"What's the,"  
"Intelligence." Church  
interrupted, already knowing the rest of the  
question.  
"Oh, what was the A, again?"  
"Let's move on."  
"So, the military put this  
program in her head, and that  
program made her a killer.  
But, underneath it all, she's just a  
sweet, downhome girl?"  
"Oh, hell no! She's always  
been a rotten bitch!" Church  
proclaimed. "It's just, now she's  
a rotten bitch with cybernetic  
enhancements!"  
"Wow! Sounds like you really  
won the lottery with that one. Good  
catch there, buddy. She's a  
keeper." Tucker muttered, just  
a little bit envious.  
"So, how are you doing,  
Caboose?" Church asked.  
"Are you following any of this  
whatsoever?"  
"I think so. That guy, Tex,  
is really a robot, and you're his  
boyfriend. So, that makes you, a gay  
robot!"  
"Yeah," Church sighed,  
inwardly shouting at the top of his  
lungs at Caboose. "That's right.  
I'm a, gay robot."  
"So, you're a girl, huh?"  
Grif looked at Tex, who  
stood, shackled in the lower area  
of the base. Simmons and Grif  
were watching over her, as she was the  
prisoner.  
"Just ignore him. That's what  
I do." Simmons assured her.  
"Not so tough now that we unloaded  
your weapon, are ya?"  
"Hey, punk," Tex replied,  
"I don't need a weapon to kill  
you."  
"Yeah right. What're you gonna  
do, punch me?" Grif challenged.  
Tex raised a chained hand,  
almost as if to punch Grif, and he  
cowered back instinctively,  
reminding himself how badly she'd  
beaten him earlier that day.  
"Not in the face!" he cried  
as she leveled her fist at him.  
"Well, don't worry,"  
Church replied, after explanations  
about who Tex was were over. "Because  
I've got a great plan for how  
we're gonna rescue Tex."  
"A plan? Aw man! I  
hate plans! That means we're  
gonna have to do stuff! Can't we just  
have a strategy, or a mission  
statement?"  
"I just need you guys to run a  
distraction, while spring Tex."  
"Distraction? That sounds a lot  
like decoy," Caboose said, though  
nobody was paying attention.  
"The way I see it. The reds  
have absolutely no idea how  
many Freelancers we have out here.  
So, all I need from the two of you,  
is to run around in the middle of the  
canyon, wearing black armor,  
while I sneak into the back of the  
base."  
"Sounds good, but Church. Where  
the hell are we gonna get two  
suits of black armor?"  
But, Tucker already knew the  
answer, and was regretting asking it.  
"Oh, fuckberries!" he  
swore, looking at Church, then  
up to the dorway filled with greenish  
energy.  
Tucker knew, the only way  
to get a fully black suit of  
armor, for both himself, and Caboose,  
was to go through the teleporter.  
And there was no way Church could  
convince him to go through there once again.  
Not even if he were a ghost.


	14. Roomier Than It Looks

Tucker could barely remember  
the first teleportation. But, he  
remembered his feeling of stupidity  
after thinking he'd gone back in  
time, so he felt he was going  
to regret this teleportation as well.  
But, he went through the teleporter  
anyway, and after a moment, he  
reappeared, standing in the center of the  
canyon, just like before.  
"Are you okay, Tucker?"  
Church asked as he appeared.  
"Yeah. I'm fine." Tucker  
responded, brushing bethe concern  
aside.  
They looked to the base, and saw  
Caboose standing there.  
"Come on, Caboose!" Tucker  
called.  
"Does it hurt?"  
"No, not at all."  
"Okay, here I come." he  
tentatively stepped forward.  
"Does it hurt for real?"  
"Oh, yeah. Big time."  
Caboose appeared, groaning in  
pain. "You lied to me." he  
muttered to Caboose as they began  
their plan.  
"Ah, dammit," Sarge  
grunted. "Lopez, come here."  
Lopez loped over to Sarge's  
side.  
"Do ya see something out there?"  
Lopez looked through the scope  
of the red sniper rifle. Finally,  
he nodded.  
Meanwhile, in the lower part of the  
base, Asimmons and Grif were  
arguing about pronunciation.  
"There's no L in it, it's  
pronounced, BOTH." Simmons  
arguedb.  
"That's what I'm saying!  
bolth."  
"Both."  
"You sound like such an ass the way  
you say it!"  
"Grif, quit your yammerin'  
and get your keister up here. Need  
some help, got more of them Special  
Ops fellas headed toward the  
base."  
Tex, the prisoner, still shackled  
to the wall, watched the soldiers,  
tuning out their conversations.  
"As in, more than one? Uh,  
maybe we should bolth go, sir."  
"BOTH," Simmons corrected  
emphasizing how he said it.  
"Seriously, man, like, an  
ass."  
"Well, well, another  
brilliant idea from the think-tank.  
Why don't you both come up? Leave  
the prisoner alone. We could just  
put her on the honor system. Have  
her guard herself."  
"Good point, sir!" Grif  
called up to Sarge.  
"You're goddamn right it is!"  
he shouted down. "Now, get your  
ass up here! We i have just enough time  
for me to spray paint the  
bull's-eye on your back."  
After a moment's silence, Sarge  
added, "Uh, by bull's-eye,  
I of course mean, camouflage.  
Now, mrche it, cupcake!"  
"Yeah, I'll be right up."  
"Hey, Tucker, you there?"  
Church called over the radio.  
"This is Church, it's working. The  
orange one is coming out of the base."  
"Roger that,"  
"Oh, oh, oh! Tucker,  
Tucker, Tucker! Is that  
Church?"  
Tucker attempted to listen  
to Church's orders, but as Church  
spoke through the radio, Caboose  
was eagerly fumbling for words, so that  
he could at leasts say hello  
to him.  
So, Tucker barely got his  
instructions.  
"I just said keep mov,"  
Tucker yelled at Caboose  
while Church began to relay the  
orders once more.  
On the roof of the red base,  
Grif looked through the sniper  
rifle's scope. "I don't  
see any, uh-oh, yep, there's  
one." he spotted one of the figures  
in black armor.  
"Why is he just standing there?"  
"Caboose! Get behind the  
rock!" Tucker reprimanded his  
teammate, who was facing the wrong  
way. "They can still see you."  
"They can't see me," Caboose  
stated, almost as if it were the perfect  
use of logic. "I can't see  
them."  
"That's because you're facing the  
rock."  
"Oh, right."  
"Real smooth, dipshit."  
Tucker said as Caboose scrambled  
to get behind the rock.  
"They're definitely Special  
Ops," Sarge mused as they  
watched Caboose disappear behind the  
rock. "I ain't seen troops  
movin' this coordinated since my  
days on Si," Sarge shuddered  
violently, uttering something  
unintelligible.  
"Sir, are you okay?"  
"Uh, who you talkin' to,  
red? Me?"  
"No, I'm talkin'  
to Lopez, because you know, that's real  
rewarding." Grif replied  
sarcastically.  
Church, residing within Sarge's  
body, did all he could to make  
his voice a gruff Southern  
accent, but it was not real rewarding.  
"Hey, what'd I tell you about  
that?"  
"Uh, I'm fine. I'm just so  
mad at these uh, these goddamn  
blues out here. They got me so  
goddamn mad, I could spit."  
And he did just that, almost as if  
it were another humiliation of not knowing  
the other side so well.  
"Um, sir? Did you just  
spit inside your own helmet?"  
Grif asked.  
"Uh, yeah. I guess I  
did."  
"Permission to speak freely  
sir?"  
"Go ahead," Church was placid.  
"That's really fucking gross."  
"Hey, Tucker?"  
"What?" Tucker looked at  
Caboose wearily.  
"I'm having a really good time,  
with, you,"  
"That's great Caboose,"  
Tucker replied, not really meaning  
it.  
"Yeah, it's like we're real  
soldiers."  
"Would you please go hide behind  
another rock?"  
"Hey man, what's up yo?"  
Church had descended to where  
Simmons stood, guarding Tex.  
"Uh, hey. What's going  
on out there sir?"  
"What, uh, well, nothing.  
Why would you ask if something's  
wrong?"  
"I think that's a perfectly  
normal question in a time of war."  
"Yeah, well," Church fumbled  
for words, hoping for dear life that  
he wasn't noticed. "I don't  
know. You're startin' to act sorta  
suspicious, there, other red guy,"  
Church stumbled for the soldier's  
name, but could not find one. "So,  
I'm gonna keep my eye on  
you."  
"Sarge, I'm starting to think  
that," Church struck out at him,  
hitting him in theback of the head.  
"What the hell are you doing?"  
Tex asked, watching this all  
unfold.  
"Tex, it's me, Church.  
I've come to rescue you."  
"You're kind of short to be  
Church."  
"What, oh yeah right, the armor."  
Church heaved, sliding from Sarge's  
body.  
"What in Sam hell? Where  
the ' who spit on my visor?"  
"Tex, there's not much time  
to explain." Church started, speaking  
as fast as he could manage. "So,  
I'm just gonna give you the  
summary here, okay? I'm a spirit  
now, and I'm trapped in the  
physical world, I possessed this  
red guy, so that I could sneak into the  
base, and rescue you, while the  
rest of our guys run around out in  
the middle of the canyon, dressed in  
black armor that they got from going  
through the teleporter."  
Church looked at Tex  
expectantly, hoping for a  
response, and thinking she wouldn't  
believe him.  
But, she surprised him by saying,  
"Okay."  
"What? That's it? "Okay?"  
You're not surprised by any of this?"  
"No." Tex replied simply.  
"It pretty much all makes  
sense."  
Church blinked. "Not even the  
whole, Church is a ghost thing?  
That didn't do anything for ya?"  
"I can see right through you, it's  
pretty obvious."  
"Okay, lemme hop right  
back into this guy, and we'll get  
outta here."  
"What are you doing?" Tucker  
looked at Caboose, who was  
holding the sniper rifle in both  
hands, aiming for the red base.  
"One of the reds has Tex.  
I'm going to shoot him, and kill  
him, and free Tex!" Caboose  
explained. "Then Church will forgive  
me, for killing him. And we will be  
friends!"  
"Oh, come on!" Tucker  
exclaimed. "You don't actually  
believe any of that, do you?"  
"Oh, we're gonna be best  
friends."  
Caboose aimed the sniper  
rifle for the red soldier who was coming  
out of the base's front.  
"All right, I'll make one  
more distraction, and you run up to the  
teleporter, and escape."  
Church explained in his gruf  
voice. "Ready?"  
Caboose had the target in his  
line of sight, and placed his finger  
on the trigger, ready at any  
moment to shoot.  
"Two,"  
Just as Church spoke, "Three!"  
his voice was cut off as a bullet  
shot straight for, and through the body  
he was using, right in the head.  
"What the ' where did my body  
go?" Church looked around as Sarge  
lay on the ground.  
"Oh, you've got to be kidding  
me!"  
All Church heard was,  
"Tucker did it!"


	15. How The Other Half Lives

All Sarge could see was  
blackness. He felt dazed, and  
dizzy, as if he'd been rendered  
unconscious, or as if this were some  
nightmare.  
"Hello," he called out.  
Nobody answered, so he  
tried again. "Hello, I said,  
hello! Hello, is anybody  
out here?"  
Wherever here was, he thought  
to himself.  
"Holy cow! Would you stop  
yelling?!" came another voice  
finally.  
"I'm here."  
"What is this place?"  
"Well, it's kind of hard  
to explain, uh, you were shot in the  
head, buddy. So, here ya are."  
"Am I dead?"  
"Are ya dead? Well," the  
voice pondered this thought for a moment.  
"Yeah, that's how I ended up here."  
"Are you some kind of angel?"  
"Am I an angel?" the voice  
chuckled. "Yeah, actxally,  
I am an angel. Um, do you  
want to go to Heaven? Because it's like,  
10 bucks to get in," the voice  
seemed to mock him, but Sarge  
didn't care.  
How could this be real? How could  
he be dead?! That just seemed,  
impossible!  
"Well, I didn't really  
bring any, I mean, my wallet's  
back at the'"  
"You don't have it there, huh?  
Well, uh, that's too bad.  
Pretny crappy reason to be  
damned to hell for eternity."  
"I don't remember dying."  
"Yeah," the voice admitted  
sighing. "That's my fault too.  
I was, sort of, possessing  
your body at the time you were shot.  
Sorry about that."  
"Hold on a second,"  
Sarge blinked in the darkness. "That  
ain't fair."  
"Not fair, yeah! Join the  
freaking club! I got shot by my  
own tank!"  
A female's voice came  
through the darkness, saying, "Target  
locked."  
"Oh, haha. Very funny,  
Sheila. Shut up! You know, I  
still haven't forgiven you. Go over  
to the base, shoo, shoo!" this  
strange fella spoke to the  
female's voice.  
"Sarge! Don't give up  
on me, soldier!"  
Light, oh, blessed light,  
Sarge mused as he could see, just  
barely, the vision of Grif,  
and Simmons leaning over his  
body. "Do you hear me? I'm  
ordering you!"  
"Who is that? Who's there?"  
Sarge asked, the voice unknown.  
He couldn't quite tell if it was  
Grif, or Simmons.  
"Looks like your guys are  
trying to save you."  
"You gotta breath man!"  
Grif shouted. "You gotta  
pull through! Come on, Sarge!"  
"That is not the way you were trained  
to do that, Private!" Sarge  
grunted.  
"He can't hear you."  
"Grif, this isn't working.  
We have to try somethble else."  
"If he gives you  
mouth-to-mouth," the voice said,  
"I'm outta here."  
"Maybe you should give him  
mouth-to-mouth," Simmons  
suggested.  
"I'm leaving!"  
"I can't believe how hard  
they're tryin' to save me!" Sarge  
felt a little like he was falling apart,  
something a soldier of his stature  
didn't do very often.  
"Why wouldn't they? I mean, my  
team didn't, but, why wouldn't  
yours?"  
"I thought they didn't like me!"  
"Oh, don't sell yourself  
short. I don't even know ya,  
and here I am, about to guide you  
to Heav, for only five bucks!"  
"Hold on, if you're an  
angel, how come you ain't got no  
wings?"  
"Because nobody rang a bell,"  
Leonard Church remarked,  
chuckling. "Seriously, do you have the  
money, or don't you?"  
"Oh, I feel the worst about  
Grif. I always made fun of him.  
I never even told him, he was  
my son."  
"No way!" Church replied,  
stunned. "The orange guy's  
your son?"  
"Nah, I just wanted to screw  
with him one last time. But, now,  
I'll never get that chance."  
"He's breathing!"  
That was the ^o thing that amazed both  
Sarge, and Church.  
"I saved Sarge."  
"I'm what?"  
"He's what?"  
"Well, I'll be a  
monkey's, they saved me."  
"What?" Church looked as  
Sarge began to fade. "No,  
come back!" he pleaded. "We  
need to even the sides!"  
"Thanks for your help, wingless  
angel fella," Sarge called.  
"Will I remember any of this?"  
"Yes, but only if you give  
me two dollars!"  
But, Sarge was already gone, back  
into the real world.  
Church sighed as he watched the  
world go on without him, wondering how  
a man could have been saved from a  
bullet wound, by only giving  
mouth-to-mouth.  
Sarge coughed as he sat up,  
and looked around the canyon.  
"What, what happened here?"  
"Sir," Simmons immediately  
replied, helping Sarge to his  
feet. "You were shot in the head, so  
we gave you CPR and saved you,  
sir."  
"I always believed in you,  
Simmons."  
"Uh, actually, it's Grif  
you should thank, sir. He did all  
the work."  
Which was a change of mind for  
Grif, but Sarge didn't care about  
that.  
"Grif," he started, looking  
at him. He paused for just a  
second, making the two soldiers  
think he had made his own change.  
"Yes sir," Simmons  
remarked.  
"Grif," he started again. "Why  
in Hell, would you give somebody  
CPR for a bullet wound in the  
head? That doesn't make a lick  
of sense!"  
"You're welcome, sir,"  
Grif muttered.  
"I mean, it's also so, damn  
inconsistent! What would you do if  
they stabbed me in the toe?  
Rub my neck with aloe vera?"  
Sarge was left to his musings,  
chuckling at the idea.  
"Hey there, Grif," he  
spoke again. "I think I feel  
an anurism coming on, could you  
help me out with one of those  
therapeutic massages?"  
When Grif complied, Sarge  
ordered, "Use your fingers, not  
your knuckles."  
Grif sighed as he continued,  
all the while, wondering why he'd  
signed on the army in the first place,  
just like usual. All there was, was  
people insulting him, people shooting at  
him, and others who were thankless,  
even when he'd just saved their lives.  
Well, he _out to admit, this was the  
first time that the lastthing had happened.  
But, still. He wished that sometimes he'd  
gain a little gratitude, and  
respect, much like Simmons.  
In the back of his mind, however,  
he knew that that would never happen.


	16. A Slightly Crueller Cruller

Just another normal day in  
Blood Gulch, another normal,  
hot, and boring day, only with  
Donut revived, and back in  
action.  
He stood in front of the base  
with Grif, and Simmons, as they  
had for a day now, and Donut had  
been refitted with new armor.  
A color that nobody would let him  
forget he'd gotten.  
"Dude, this is sweet!  
Command was so happy that I got the  
blue flag, they gave me my own  
color armor!"  
Grif couldn't help but snicker  
at this. Not just at Donut's  
enthusiasm, but at the actual  
color of the armor, which was a light  
shade of red.  
Also known as pink.  
"Uh, hey Donut,"  
"What?"  
"About your armor," Simmons  
also was holding back his laughter.  
"What about it?"  
"Um, how do I put this. Your  
armor is, it's a little, um,"  
he looked to Grif. "Grif, you  
wanna help me out here?"  
"It's pink!" Grif remarked  
bluntly. "Your armor is freaking  
pink!"  
"Yeah, that's it, pink."  
"Pink? My armor's not pink!"  
"Pink!" Grif remarked again.  
"Yeah, definitely pink."  
Simmons agreed.  
"You guys are just color blind."  
Donut protested. "Why would they  
give me pink armor?"  
"Hey, don't ask, don't  
tell," Grif replied.  
"That's not funny," Grif was  
doubled over seconds later,  
laughing quietly.  
"It's a little funny!"  
"Look at it! It's not pink,  
it's like, uh, a light-ish red."  
"Guess what? They already have a  
color for light-ish red. Do you  
know what it's called? Pink!"  
"I hate you guys!"  
"Well, hello dirtbags!"  
Sarge remarked, exiting the base.  
"And a fine hello to you, madam."  
he chuckled as he looked at  
Donut.  
"It's light red!"  
"Don't get your panties in  
a wad there Barbie. Do you have a  
package for me?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Excellent!"  
"They said this Speech Unit  
will work with Lopez,"  
"Speech unit?"  
Grif and Simmons exchanged  
a confused look, but they remembered  
the day that Sarge called into Command,  
asking for the thing.  
"Here you go,"  
"Affirmative," Sarge  
remarked, taking the package from  
Donut. "Command was fresh out of  
speech modules when I started  
building Lopez. So, once I  
get this baby installed, I'll  
finally have someone intelligent to talk  
to," he paused, then looked at  
Simmons. "No offense,  
Simmons."  
"Oh, don't worry, I know  
what you meant, sir." Simmons  
replied coolly.  
"Wait a second, Lopez  
is a robot?"  
"Of course he is!" Simmons  
exclaimed, while Sarge looked  
at Grif blankly. "You didn't  
ever notice that he never talks?"  
"I just thought that he was a really  
quiet guy." Grif countered.  
"And the fact that he sleeps standing  
up, and drinks motor oil,  
didn't get your attention?" Sarge  
asked.  
"I did think the motor oil thing  
was a bit odd, but I just thought he  
was trying to impress me!"  
"Hey, sir, you really should  
ground yourself before handling that card."  
"How come?"  
"Because static could damage the  
card."  
"Come on, that's just an urban  
legend they use to sell those stupid  
bracelets!"  
Sarge pulled the card from its  
package, and prepared to get  
to work on Lopez. "And I  
suppose pop-rocks are gonna  
make my stomach blow up,"  
But, the card sparked slightly,  
and Sarge jumped back.  
"Sir, I won't say I  
told you so, sir,"  
"Good, I'd hate to make  
Strawberry Shortcake here, my  
new favorite Private."  
"It's not pink! It's light-ish  
red!" Donut protested again.  
Tucker sighed, as Caboose  
panted after the restoration of their  
armor, to its original color.  
TUCKER had decided, he would not  
go around with this stuff on his armor,  
not at all, so he had Caboose  
clean it again. But, in turn, he  
had to help Caboose clean his.  
"Man," Caboose rasped as  
they finished. "You know, this stuff  
does not come off easy?"  
"Yeah," Tucker admitted.  
"This was a lot easier when we were  
just cleaning my armor."  
"Yeah, I know. I think that  
that's because, oh, I don't know, you  
didn't do anything!" Caboose  
snapped, and Tucker had to give  
it to him, he wasn't mad much.  
"I'm sorry, what?" Tucker  
mocked, "It's kind of hard to hear  
you over the sound of your constant  
team-killing."  
Caboose just laughed it off,  
but after his chuckles subsided he  
remarked, glaring at Tucker, who  
was turned away, "Don't make  
me mad."  
"So, what happened to me  
anyways?" Donut asked.  
"I recall something about a spider  
on my head?"  
"Right, that was a grenade."  
"And the last thing I remember  
is a loud bang, and then  
Simmons fainting."  
"Ha! Told you so!" Grif  
taunted Simmons.  
"I did not faint."  
"Done, and done!" Sarge  
remarked, finishing his work on  
Lopez. "Lopez, activate  
speech unit." he ordered.  
The first words out of Lopez's  
robotic mouth were not what they had  
expected, "Buenos dias.  
Y la gracias da por activar  
mi función del discurso. Soy  
el número de modelo cero uno  
cero uno uno tres cuatro ocho  
ocho dos tres."  
"Am I the only one not understanding  
any of this?" Donut asked, talking  
over Lopez's speech.  
"Me llamo es Lopez. was  
"Lopez, he just said Lopez!  
I understood that. I can speak  
Spanish!" Grif exclaimed.  
Sargesarge looked at Lopez,  
and spoke in a slow tone.  
"Lopez, speak English."   
"Mi procesador Ingléness  
tiene malfunctioned. Sé habla  
solamente español."  
"Huh," Simmons mused,  
scanning Lopez. "I think you  
shorted out his speech unit with that  
static, sir."  
"Maybe Princess Peach here  
picked up the wrong model. was  
Sarge remarked, smilx at the  
joking comment.  
"Seriously, dude. For the last  
time: Not pink." Donut protested,  
sounding serious.  
"Lopez. I order you to speak  
a language we understand." Sarge  
seemed to completely ignore  
Donut's outburst.  
Meanwhile, Lopez's  
response, "Negativo."  
"Well this is just dandy." Sarge  
complained, slowing his voice, as if  
that were the problem. "Lopez, HOW,  
DO, WE, FIX, YOUR,  
SPEECH, U-NIT?"  
"Why are you talking so slow? He  
understands us just fine. Maybe you should  
try listening slower." Grif  
responded.  
Sarge glared at him, then finally  
asked, "Lopez, would you like to shoot  
Grif?"  
Lopez raised his gun, and  
seemed to show a grimace of a  
smile. "Sí señor.  
Gracias."  
"No, stop!" Grif raised his  
hands. "Alto, alto!"  
"Alto means tall, you  
dumbass." Simmons remarked.  
"Then why do they put it on stop  
signs?"  
That was the true question, however, for  
no one responded.


	17. Points Of Origin

The same day, at Blue  
Base, after Church, and Tex had  
returned, it seemed a battle of  
bargains. Caboose and Tucker  
remained silent as Tex and Church  
spoke.  
"As far as I'm concerned, I'm  
square with you." Tex remarked.  
Caboose and Tucker turned  
to look at Church expectantly,  
waiting for a counter.  
"I saved you from a life of  
imprisonment. How the hell are you  
square with me?" He asked, and the  
two turned back to Tex.  
"Because I didn't kill you  
back at Sidewinder."  
"You know, I don't really see  
how not killing somebody is the same  
thing as doing them a favor." Church  
returned, tilting his ghostly head.  
"Well, if you don't  
appreciate it, I could just kill  
you right now."  
"No, you can't!" Church fired  
back, his usual attitude kicking  
back into motion, "I'm already dead,  
bitch! I guess the joke's on  
you!"  
"Stop it! Stop fighting."  
Caboose cried, raising his hands.  
"Can't you see that you're tearing us  
apart? WHAT ABOUT US?"  
"What about you?" Tex asked,  
looking at Caboose.  
"We helped you too." he  
remarked sternly. "And what do we  
get? Nothing!"  
"Well yeah, but," Tex  
started.  
"Yeah, but nothin'. He's got  
a point." Church interrupted.  
"I did help them get the flag  
back."  
"Yeah, but you were paid to do that. We  
rescued you as a favor. We could have  
just let you rot in the Red Army  
prison, it wouldn't have made any  
difference to us."  
Tex looked at all of them,  
scanning each soldier, from Church,  
to Tucker, then to Caboose, and  
back again.  
"Fine, I'll stay here as long  
as it takes to help you guys win this  
thing." Tex admitted, sighing.  
"But, as soon as I have, I'm  
outta here. What do you need me  
to do?"  
"I have no idea. If you knew  
how to fix a tank, I would have you do  
that."  
Tex looked at Tucker, as  
if he'd said something of an insult  
to her. "Okay." she finally  
replied.  
"Wait, you, you know how to fix  
Sheila?" Caboose asked  
eagerly. He stared at Tex as she  
nodded at him. Then he smiled  
broadly, saying, "I love you."  
Back at red base, Lopez  
was still speaking unintelligibly,  
still in Spanish, which nobody could  
understand.  
"Entonces la décias "tu  
nos pesos mthness, yo peso  
mths." Entonces pusieron los  
de nuestros cuerpos sobre la  
escala y fue determinado  
quiétion tenía el peso mthness  
grande. Despuéness de eso me  
llamarían Lopez la  
Pesado."  
"Man. First he doesn't talk  
at all, and now we can't get him  
to shut up. What's he saying?"  
Grif looked at Simmons as  
they just let Lopez ramble on.  
"What're you asking me for?"  
"Well, you know, because you're of,  
uh, a Latino persuasion." Grif  
remarked slowly.   
"Simmons isn't a Spanish  
name, you dumbass. I'm  
Dutch-Irish."  
"But I thought,"  
"What?" Simmons interrupted.  
"Eh, never mind."  
After a few moments of awkward  
silence between the group, Donut  
broke the tension, "I'm from Iowa."  
"Nobody cares!"  
If there were one thing they could do,  
it was to yell at Donut.  
"Okay, take it easy guys.  
When I was over at the red Ase,  
I saw that they've already got their  
jeep fixed. So whatever you do,  
don't let them see us before we get  
Sheila back online." Church  
said.  
"Okay, okay. Even if we  
get Sheila fixed, how are we  
going to turn her over? I mean it's  
not as if we could just lift," he  
stopped, noticing the Tex had  
flipped the damaged tank over.  
"Oh. She is a very strong lady."  
"I'm the one that's the least  
visible, so I'm gonna head up  
here to higher ground. I'll keep an  
eye on the red base. If I see  
anything, I'll let you know."  
Church reported.  
"Great, I'll come with you!"  
Caboose replied eagerly.  
"That kinda defeats the purpose,  
Caboose." Church attempted  
to stay away from harshness, but his  
tone gave away his frustration.  
"Okay. What if I'm really,  
really, quiet?" Caboose  
remarked, his voice slowly growing  
quieter as he spoke, until he  
was whispering.  
"Do you even understand what the term  
"visibility" means?"  
Caboose:   
"Ah hah hah," Caboose  
laughed, "Good one, Church."  
"Seriously. You don't know what  
it means, do you?"  
"Uh, no," Caboose  
admitted.  
"Caboose, just stay here, man,  
and try not to swallow your tongue or  
anything like that."  
As Church began to walk, or  
float, away, Tucker called  
out, "Just watch the Red Base, and  
tell us if you see any movement."  
Tucker walked over to Tex,  
who was working diligently on  
Sheila.  
"So, I suppose if you're  
helping us, you're not as mean as I  
thought." he replied.  
Tex stopped, and turned to face  
him. "I wouldn't say I'm mean,  
I just get hired to do mean things."  
"Yeah, but you like it."  
"Well," she started, halting  
for a moment. "I think it's  
important to enjoy what you do."  
"So let's say I payed you  
to kill Caboose." he looked  
over at Caboose, almost sadly,  
"You would still do it, right? Even though  
you're supposed to be helping us?"  
Tex's eyes glinted, "Is this  
a hypothetical discussion, or should  
we start talking numbers?"  
"Yeah, I don't wanna talk  
about this anymore," Tucker started  
to walk away.  
Church stood on a ledge above the  
base, near the same place he'd  
gotten killed. He examined his  
dead body, then he glared down  
at Tucker below.  
"Hey, Tucker!" Church  
called down.  
"What?"  
"What the hell is my body  
still doing up here?"  
"That's part of being dead, Church.  
Your body doesn't really move  
around much any more. Maybe you  
haven't fully grasped the concept  
yet." Tucker called up  
sarcastically.  
"Alright, well let me  
rephrase that then: Why in the hell  
haven't you buried my body yet?"  
"Buried?" Tucker looked up  
at him. "With what? All we have are  
pistols and rifles. What do you  
want me to do, shoot you a grave?"  
"Well then how about shipping me  
back home? You know, let the loved  
ones pay a little respect." Church  
fired back.  
"Well Church, here's your  
girlfriend. Tex, as one of Church's  
loved ones, would you like to pay your  
respects?"  
Tex only turned back to her  
work silently, and Church growled.  
"That was a stirring eulogy. Rest  
in peace, good buddy!"  
Church tuned the final words out  
as he turned around to face the  
canyon, watching all of Blood  
Gulch from just the area just below, to the  
red base on the canyon's far  
side.


	18. SPF 0

"I am not happy with this." Church  
remarked as he and Tucker stood  
over Church's dead body.  
"I have an idea." Caboose  
started to say, but neither answered.  
"I have an idea!" he called out  
louder.  
"Yeah, we heard you the first time,  
Caboose, we were just ignoring you."  
Tucker remarked.  
"Since you possessed that Red  
guy, and took control of him, why  
don't you just possess your own  
body?" Caboose suggested.  
"Oh I see, so that way I would  
be living inside of my own dead  
body."  
"Yes." Caboose agreed.  
"Unable to move, just, laying there,  
rotting in the sun for all eternity."  
"Yes." he repeated.  
"Okay, Caboose, I'll be  
sure to get right on that." Church  
remarked sarcastically.  
"I think you are a mean ghost."  
Caboose muttered.  
"Dude, you really stink."  
Tucker commented, placing a  
gauntleted hand over where his nose  
was.  
"What?" Church glared at him.  
"Your body, it stinks."  
"Tucker, the first chance we get,  
you are going to bury my body."  
Church threatened.  
"Quit your bitching, nothing's  
going to happen to it."  
"It's a freaking indignity! My  
body fought hard for this army, and it  
deserves to be laid to rest."  
"Get over it, you're already dead.  
What's the worst that could happen  
now?"  
For a moment the two stood staring  
at each other, not saying a word. Then  
Caboose spoke, pointing into the  
sky. "Hey, Church, look,  
birds!" he exclaimed. After  
a moment, he asked the group at  
large, "Why are they flying around in  
circles?"  
Church sighed, dejectedly.  
"Nuh, God."  
At red base Grif and  
Simmons were practicing the oldest  
game in the book: I Spy.  
They stood on the base's roof,  
and it was Grif's turn. Though,  
Simmons thought to himself, he wasn't  
good.  
"Okay, I'll go again, I  
spy something," he paused, placing  
a hand over his visor to block out the  
sun. "That begins with,"  
"Dirt." Simmons remarked  
bluntly, interrupting him.  
"Damn! How did you,"   
"Well," Simmons interjected  
again "Because you did rock last time.  
That's all that's out here, is rock and  
dirt."  
"Yeah, this canyon sucks."  
Grif sighed.  
Back at blue base,  
Caboose stood behind Church, and  
Tucker, who stood by the edge of the  
cliff overlooking blue base.  
But, their gazes were fixed on Tex  
as she worked effortlessly on the tank.  
"How long do you figure until  
Tex fixes the tank?" Church  
asked, after a few moments of  
silence.  
"Not much longer. She said it's  
going pretty well. The gun's  
almost working, and then she'll get it  
moving again." Tucker reported.  
Church pulled a face, and  
sarcastically replied, "Oh, that's  
just fantastic."  
"Why would that upset you?"  
"Because as soon as she gets the  
tank online, she's gonna use  
it against the Reds, and they're all  
gonna die." Church remarked.  
"The Reds dying is a good thing."  
"No, Tucker, it's not a good  
thing." Church corrected. "As  
soon as we beat the Reds, Tex  
is outta here. And I still haven't  
figured out a way to get that AI  
out of her head."  
"AI," Caboose mused as  
he zoomed in the sniper rifle's  
scope, focusing on red base.  
"Shut up, Caboose." Church  
immediately replied. "And ifI don't  
get it out before she leaves,"  
"If she leaves you won't ever  
find her again." Tucker finished.  
"Right." Church concurred.  
"So what're you gonna do?"  
"I guess I'm gonna do the  
only thing that I can do. I have to warn  
the Reds before she fixes the tank."  
"You're switching sides?"  
Tucker asked, looking at his  
ghost of a friend.  
"Sorry, guys. I don't have  
much choice."  
"Church, uh, wha, what happens  
when the Reds out here, to stop Tex, and  
then they come also with guns and they  
find." Caboose fumbled for words.  
"I'll try to help you as best  
I can. Good luck, guys."  
Church faded away, leaving the  
two blue soldiers to stand beside the  
cliff edge.  
"Does this mean I should try  
to kill Church now?" Caboose  
asked.  
"I tell you what: kill me.  
I promise not to come back."  
Tucker sighed.  
Caboose continued to scan the  
canyon with the sniper rifle, finally  
settling the scope on Donut.  
"Hey! Look at this."  
"No." Tucker replied.  
"They have a girl! They have a  
girl!" Caboose celebrated.  
"A what?" Tucker perked up.  
"A girl, a girl! Look!  
Pink armor!"  
"Oh man, how come they get a  
girl?"  
"Uh, you guys realize that  
I'm a chick, right? And that I'm  
standin' right here?" Tex called up,  
not turning from her work.  
"Yeah, Tex, but when we say a  
girl, we mean a girl-girl."  
"And what the hell does that  
mean?"  
"Nothing!" Caboose and Tucker  
said, backing away from the edge,  
feeling tension from Tex.  
"Wait a second." Tucker  
stated, looking at Caboose, then  
over the edge. He lowered his voice  
when he continued, "If Tex heard  
that, do you think she heard Church's  
secret plan to warn the Reds about  
her?"  
"I don't know, but I think I  
know how to find out."  
Caboose moved over to the  
cliff's edge once again, looking  
down. When he spoke, it was the  
most stupid thing Tucker could have  
asked to come through Caboose's mouth.  
"Hey, Tex! Uh... Did  
you hear Church's secret plan  
to tell the Reds that you were fixing the  
tank?"  
Tex did not respond.  
"I don't think she knows.  
Unless she can read minds," Caboose  
gasped, as this possibility came  
to mind. Tucker sighed, wondering,  
not for the first, nor the last time, why  
Caboose hadn't died yet. "she  
can't read minds, can she?"  
Caboose received no response.


	19. Last One Out, Hit The Lights

Atop red base, Grif,  
Simmons, and Lopez stood,  
watching the canyon of Blood  
Gulch. It seemed the calm before  
the storm, as Tex made repairs  
to Sheila, the Scorpion-class  
tank for the blue team. And all  
that could be done to pass the time was ask  
a simple, very primitive question.  
"Hey." Simmons replied,  
getting Grif's attention.  
"Yeah?"  
"You ever wonder why we're here?"  
Grif looked at Simmons,  
and finally responded, harshly,  
"No. I never, ever, wonder why  
we're here."  
Something happened, seconds  
later, causing both to jump, and  
turn to Lopez.  
"What? What's wrong with  
Lopez?"  
"I don't care." Grif  
shrugged it off.  
"Hey, Lopez, uh,"  
Simmons started, "You okay,  
man?"  
"Aye, muchachos, necesité  
darle, un aviso," Lopez's  
voice seemed different. "Qué?  
Por qué estoy el hablar en  
español? Yo no puedo hablar  
español!"  
"Um, sure..." Simmons  
blinked.  
"No, no, escucha mé! La  
bruja teva a matar! Ella est  
travajando en la tanque!"  
Tucker and Caboose stood  
on the same ledge overlooking the  
canyon in its entirety.  
"Aw, crap. Caboose, she's  
almost done fixing Sheila. I  
better radio Church and tell him  
what's going on." Tucker  
remarked, looking down at Tex.  
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Tucker,  
please! Please! Tucker!  
Tucker! Tucker! Tucker,  
please! Tuck," Caboose  
pleaded, almost jumping with anxiety.  
"Yes, you can be the one who  
radios Church."  
"Thanks, man. Calling  
Church. Come in, Church. This is  
your close, personal friend,  
Private O'Malley."  
Tucker blinked, looking at  
Caboose in confusion.  
"O'Malley? You said your name  
was Caboose."  
Caboose shook his head. "I  
never said that, you guys did!"  
"Why didn't you correct us?"  
"Because I didn't want to be  
difficult."  
"Come in, Private Church.  
Do you copy? Soldier unit Tex  
almost has the armor vehicle  
situation rectified. Okay. We  
require verification of your,  
mission, ness." Caboose  
remarks.  
Tucker never remembered  
Caboose speaking so  
intelligently. "How is your  
progression?" he finally asked,  
having cleared his throat.  
"Caboose! Nadie aquí est  
escuchando mí! No mas puedo  
hablar español!"  
Caboose looked at Tucker,  
then finally said, "He says he  
wants to talk to you."  
"Thank you for activating the  
M808V main battle tank."  
Sheila remarked, her systems  
online.  
"Oh shit. We got trouble."  
Tucker remarked, as Sheila  
hopped into the tank's driver's  
canopy.  
"Un tanque... grrrande!"  
"Hey. I think if you're  
gonna live in this country, you should  
speak the language." Grif  
exclaimed, looking at Lopez,  
with Church using his body.  
Two words hit their ears, two  
words they had wished they wouldn't have  
heard, nor did they expect  
to hear, two words they hadn't heard  
in a week or so.  
"Target locked."  
"What country? We're on an  
alien planet." Simmons  
remarked, looking around.  
"What're you, a communist?"  
The base shuddered with the might of an  
explosion, rocking the base.  
"Son of a bitch!" Grif  
exclaimed as he was knocked over.  
"Son of a bitch!" Simmons  
exclaimed as well.  
"Madre de dios!" Lopez  
also yelled.  
Tucker and Caboose, still  
stood on the cliff, watching the  
canyon. Tucker wasn't the  
happiest of blue soldiers, as  
he growled, "Okay, I'm getting  
really sick of asking people what's going  
on through that sniper rifle."  
"Church is getting mad at us."  
"Ohhhhh. Well that's a nice  
change of pace."  
"Simmons," Sarge's voice  
came over Simmons's radio.  
"I'm coming around in the Warthog.  
Get ready to take the gunner  
position when I come by."  
"Roger that."  
Sarge hrpped into the Warthog,  
fully repaired thanks to Lopez.  
He revved the engines, and started  
to drive, racing over the terrain  
toward the side of the base where  
Simmons stood with Grif and  
Lopez.  
"I'll uh, I'll stay here."  
Grif replied as another explosion  
was aimed their way.  
"Yeah." Simmons mocked,  
"Stay here, and guard this cement  
ramp. It's vital to our  
success."  
Sarge, and the Warthog came  
skidding by the base and Simmons  
launched himself forward. He landed  
deftly on the back seat of the  
jeep, taking up the gunner position  
immediately.  
"Alright, I'm on board." he  
reported.  
"Alright, here's the plan,"  
neither had noticed, but Sheila  
had targeted them, and an explosion  
sent the Warthog, Simmons,  
Sarge and all, flying through the air.  
"Junebug!" Sarge cried  
as they flew backward.  
"Wow, back so soon? You guys  
win the war already?" Grif asked as  
both Sarge and Simmons came  
running back up to the base,  
climbing the ramp to his position.  
"Yeah, uh, did you want  
to finish telling me the plan now,  
Sarge?" Simmons asked,  
looking out at Blood Gulch.  
"If we survive this, I'm  
gonna kill both of ya.  
Slowly." Sarge remarked.  
"Uh, hey, Simmons?  
By the way," Grif remarked,  
kneeling beside Simmons, who had  
fallen to the ground. "The ramp is  
secure." he whispered.  
"Target locked." Sheila's  
voice could be heard.  
"Hey, what're you guys doin'  
up here?!" Donut asked as he  
emerged from the base.  
"That chick in the black armor's  
back!" Grif reported, standing  
once more.  
"What chick? The one that stuck  
the grenade to my head?"  
"That's the one." Simmons  
remarked, getting to his feet as  
well.  
"The same chick whose fault it  
is that I'm stuck in this light red  
armor?"  
"Donut, I understand the need  
to safeguard your masculinity, but  
really, dude, it's a whole lot  
faster just to say pink." Grif  
sighed.  
"Ohho! Oh, I been waiting  
for this." Donut replied, making his  
way to the edge of the base. He  
locked eyes with the girl aboard the  
driver canopy in the tank.  
"Hey, bitch! Remember me?!"  
he called out to her. She did not  
respond, though he continued. "I  
saved something for ya!"  
There was one moment of truth in  
this battle. Could Donut make  
the throw?  
He produced a grenade, and  
raised it above his head. Finally,  
he smiled, and threw it out over  
the canyon. It sailed through the air,  
arcing high above the ground. And if  
there were one person to make the distance  
that had been achieved just that day, it  
was Donut.  
The grenade flew far, finally  
landing neatly in Tex's lap.  
"Man, that girl's got a really  
good arm." Tucker remarked,  
stunned, not knowing that Donut was just a  
guy.  
In the tank, the assault Tex  
had mounted, had stopped, as she  
spotted the grenade, just as it landed.  
But, it was too late to defuse it,  
or dislodge it. "Aw, crap!"  
she groaned.  
"Hell yeah! Three points, you  
dirty whore!" Donut's voice  
echoed across Blood Gulch as he  
yelled to Tex, just as the grenade  
exploded, sending her flying out of the  
tank, landing on the ground.  
"Dios mío, no!" Church,  
disguised as Lopez, yelled in  
dismay. "Tejas, Tejas!" he  
cried as he came running toward  
Tex.  
"Uh, where's Lopez going?"  
Grif asked, standing next to the other  
red soldiers.  
"To fight the enemy head on in  
hand-to-hand combat." Sarge sfghed,  
"Mano e mano. What a brave  
little compadre. Lopez, I never  
understood a word you said. But I do  
know one thing: You hated Grif, and  
that's the most important thing there  
is. Adios, amigo. Adios."  
"Shouldn't we help him?"  
Simmons asked, looking out after  
Lopez.  
"Naw," Sarge said, "That will  
just ruin the moment."  
"Church, is that you?" Tex  
gasped, looking up as Church, still  
disguised by the Spanish robot's  
body, kneeled down beside her.  
"It, it's gone, Church. The  
AI, it's gone. Thank you."  
Then her eyes closed, and she  
was dead.  
On top of blue base,  
Caboose, recently naming himself,  
O'Malley, was facing the cliff  
as Tucker watched the proceedings.  
"Crap." he remarked as Tex  
breathed her last. "Church is gonna  
be pissed, and now he's got a  
body to kick our ass. Come on,  
Caboose, let's get back  
to base."  
Caboose turned to look at  
him, an evil glint in his eyes.  
"I told you, my name isn't  
Caboose," he snapped.   
When he spoke again, his voice  
was deeper, more menacing. "My name,  
is... O'Malley..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it was, the last chapter of the first Red Vs. Blue novelization. What did you think?


End file.
